The Romanticism of Simplicity
by CauldronCake24
Summary: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger each have great jobs and are living comfortably together in a four floor building in a quant, old wizarding community. Everything is going great until their landlord decides to rent out the bottom flat and an
1. One

The Romanticism of Simplicity  
  
Chapter One  
  
Voldemort is dead, the Death Eaters have been scattered to the wind and peace has been restored. It had taken three long years, but it was finally over. Utterly, completely, undeniably over. The story of Harry Potter's defeat of the Dark Lord spread like wildfire throughout the wizarding community and within the hour the boy who lived had become the cause of mass celebration. Magical beings of all races, ages and creeds flooded the streets in honor of their new found freedom. Banners were raised, headlines were written and letters were sent in the unlikely case that someone hadn't heard the news. It was a glorious time indeed for wizards and muggles alike. It was the beginning of a world free of worry and the fear of the spread of Dark Magic. A world with promise so abundant that it was blinding. Evil had been dissolved and as far as they were concerned, was gone forever. And even if there was anything else lurking behind the golden haze, how bad could it be? The worst was over...right?  
  
It had been four years since Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger had graduated form Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and with the absence of Voldemort they had managed to create a comfortable life for themselves. Harry had joined on as seeker for England and Ron and Hermione had become aurors for the Ministry of Magic. Something they were both very good at, but for very different reasons. If nothing, they were happy and happiness is nothing to be taken lightly. At least that's what Arthur and Molly Weasley say.   
  
About a year after graduation, the trio had discovered an amazing building tucked away in a quaint, old wizarding community and it had been just the three of them ever since, Hermione on the top floor, Harry on the thrid and Ron on the second. But now, things were about to change. Their landlord, a dwarf by the name of Heymus Heffleman, came to them and told them that he had decided to rent out the first floor flat.   
  
"A new neighbor might do you all some good," Heymus asserted, unlocking the door to the empty flat.  
  
"But we like it this way," Hermione exclaimed, running her finger across the thick layer of dust that had accumulated on the mantle.  
  
"And you'll like it just as much with one more person."  
  
"What if this person is mental or something?" Ron pondered. "What if, what if this person..."  
  
"What if you just left it to me?"   
  
"Are we at least going to get to meet the person before you decide?" Harry asked.  
  
"It depends," Heymus answered  
  
"On what?"  
  
"On how much I like the person. I'll probably just have whoever it is move in on the spot."  
  
"Gee, thanks," Ron contorted.  
  
He sighed wearily. "Don't you have any faith in me at all?"   
  
Hermione, who felt bad for doubting him, gave him a small squeeze. "Of course we do."  
  
"I'm not going to allow someone in here who would run off my other tennants. The whole point behind opening up this flat is to make more money."  
  
"Oh, well in that case," Harry laughed. "We can rest easy tonight."  
  
Heymus spent the next couple of months searching for the "right" person for his open flat. He ran people in and out of the place as though it were a wash and go, everyday going through about twenty people. Eventually though, the people stopped coming and Ron, Harry and Hermione began to wonder if he had given up. Before they ever got the chance to ask though, the answer showed up at the door.   
  
"Hul-hullo?" A small, feminine voice rang out from the butler's horn in Harry's flat.   
  
Ron, Harry and Hermione all looked up, confused.  
  
"Is anyone there?" it spoke again.  
  
Harry moved over to his door so that whoever it was could hear him better. "Can I help you?"  
  
"Oh thank goodness!" she breathed. "Sorry to bother you, but I just moved into the downstairs flat and I've misplaced my key. Would you mind letting me in?"  
  
"Sure. I'll be down in a second."  
  
The trio shared an excited glance as they made their way down the stairs to the front door which opened to reveal a rather pretty girl about their age with long, dark blonde hair and shocking green eyes.  
  
"Sorry," she grinned nervously. "I must have dropped it or something on my way here."  
  
"No problem," Harry smiled, moving aside to allow her through. "I'm Harry Potter by the way and this is Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley."  
  
"My word," she laughed, looking each of them up and down. "You are aren't you?" When it was clear that they had no idea who she was, she continued. "Gemma Herrin. We went to Hogwart's together."   
  
It took a second or two, but it eventually dawned on them.  
  
"You look fantastic!" Hermione cried, pulling her into a tight hug.  
  
"So do you! You know, I didn't even know anyone else lived here until just now."   
  
"Really? I'm surprised Heymus didn't say anything about us." Ron stated.   
  
"Yes, well, he's a bit strange isn't he?" she smiled.  
  
"A little."  
  
"Anyway, I've gotta say, I've never been more happy to have flat mates in my life. When I couldn't find my key I was sure I'd never be able to get in," she laughed.  
  
"Listen," Harry continued. "Is there anything we can help you with? Boxes," he looked around "...anything?"  
  
"I sent almost everything through the Floo Network yesterday, which, come to think of it, is probably what happened to my key." She glanced down at the box she had been carrying. "This is the last of it."  
  
Ron, beating Harry to the punch, picked it up and smiled brightly. "Lead the way."  
  
Gemma couldn't help but grin at the guy as the four of them stepped into her spacious loft. He was rather cute with his red hair and blue eyes and she could tell straight away that she was going to enjoy having him as a neighbor.   
  
"What a mess," she sighed, taking in the sea of boxes and furniture.  
  
"I think I found your key," Hermione explained, picking up a small bronze trinket from the mantle and handing it to her.  
  
"Thanks," she sighed. "Thoughtful of them wasn't it?"  
  
"So," Harry chimed in. "Would you like some help sorting this all out?"  
  
She shook her head. "I think I can manage."  
  
"Right, well, you know where to find us if you change your mind."  
  
Gemma maneuvered into the open living room as best she could so as to examine it a little more closely. "Thanks. I just might."  
  
The three friends headed back upstairs to Harry's flat.  
  
"She's something isn't she?" Ron asked. A broad grin had settle comfortably onto his face.  
  
"Oh stop it," Hermione giggled. "She just got here."  
  
"What's that got to do with her being good looking?"   
  
"At least let her settle in before you go jumping on her."  
  
The next morning Gemma awoke to sunshine as buttery as toast pouring in through the french doors of her bedroom balcony. She had spent the night sorting through those mounds of boxes and had almost completely gotten everything put away before retreating to bed. As she worked, she could here Harry, Hermione and Ron laughing upstairs and more than a few times had to fight the urge to run up there and join them. They seemed like such great people. People she had always wanted to get to know, but she didn't want to seem overbearing by pushing a conversation.  
  
She spent the next few hours finishing up her flat and just being alltogether lazy. It wasn't until around 2 that she even considered getting dressed and that was only because her boyfriend, David, was bringing dinner. Since it was going to be a while before he'd show up though, she decided to take a long, leizurely soak in her claw-footed tub, indulging in all her favorite suds and potions. She came out of the heavenly water, feeling extremely content and completely feminine.   
  
The smooth, sensuous scent of vanilla lingered in the air as she slipped on her favorite pair of slim-fitting jeans and a white, silk top that hugged her torso in all the right places. Her hair was left to dry in soft waves while she applied the tiniest bit of make-up, careful to remember the sultry lip gloss that she knew David liked so well. Once done, Gemma stood back to admire her self in the mirror. She wasn't at all bad looking, she thought. Her breasts were small, but full and quite appropriate for her height of 5'6". Her round hips were a testiment to her femininity and while she may not ever be a supermodel, she was quite pleased with herself just the same.   
  
After a few minutes she was torn from her thoughts by a knock at the door and as she stepped out to answer it, she realized that her heart was beating rapidly with anticipation.   
  
"Coming," she called, reaching out to twist the doorknob open. "Oh, hullo."   
  
Ron smiled back at her from the other side. "I just ca-" he stopped suddenly, stepping back slightly so that he could take her entire self in. "You l-look great."  
  
"Thanks," she grinned, feeling the heat rise to her already rosy cheeks.  
  
He couldn't help but notice how the creamy fabric of her blouse pulled across her breasts with the greatest of ease and the how the light glittered tauntingly off of her full lips.   
  
"G-going somewhere?" he choked out, trying to sound as non-chalant as possible.  
  
"My boyfriend is bringing dinner later."  
  
"Oh." Ron seemed rather dissappointed by this news.  
  
"Did you need something?" Gemma asked, focusing hard on not letting her eyes travel down his long body. He really looked fantastic in that grey jumper and those faded jeans.  
  
"Actually, I came to see if you'd like to have dinner with the three of us. You know, so we could maybe get to know eachother a bit, or, catch up I should say."  
  
"That's a wonderful idea," she exclaimed. "I don't know if I can stop by tonight though. I'll have to see what David's planned."  
  
"Great," Ron said. "We'll be at Hermione's, uh, the top flat. Come by if you get the chance."  
  
She nodded. "If I can't make it tonight I'll come up tomorrow and we can work something out."  
  
His smile was incredible. "Well," he began. "Have a good dinner then and I guess I'll see you around."  
  
"I definately want to chat with you guys," Gemma assured him as he turned to walk back up the stairs. He was just about out of sight, when she blurted out, "And Ron,"  
  
He stepped back down a couple of steps, staring at her. "Yeah?"  
  
Suddenly, everything she'd ever wanted to say to him came tumbling out of the nooks and crannies of her brain like some horrendous avalanche and not a single word of it seemed to make since. "Er," she began, becoming very aware of her hands. "I was just wondering if you remembered me at all," she paused to find his eyes. "You know...from Hogwarts?"  
  
"Uh," he took two more steps down to her. "Well,"   
  
"It's all right if you don't," she quickly stated. "I was just wondering."  
  
"I actually," he started to tell her about the time in Greenhouse 2, but thought better of it.   
  
"What?" she asked, urging him to take the last steps down.  
  
"I do remember you."  
  
"Honestly?"  
  
He nodded. "Really well."  
  
She thought her cheeks must be glowing by now. "We never talked much did we?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
Gemma didn't know if it was because of nerves or what, but before she could stop herself, she started rambling on about a certain, random memory. "This is probably going to sound stupid, but it's always sort of bothered me."  
  
"What is it?" He was now standing in front of her.  
  
"Well, we were in Herbology once and you said something to me, or at least I think it was you, but I didn't quite catch what it was. And then, I could have sworn you were going to ask me something, but I got pulled away..."  
  
"By James," he finished her sentence.  
  
"You remember that?"  
  
"How could I forget?" He appeared to be speaking more to himself than to her.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
He caught her eyes again and looked away quickly, scrutinizing his shoes. "I never got the nerve to start up that conversation again after that."  
  
"What were you going to say?"  
  
"I, well I-I sort of liked you."  
  
"You did?" she laughed nervously, running her hands through her thick hair.  
  
"Yeah I did." Ron flushed bright red. "I was going to ask you on a date. We had a Hogsmeade trip that weekend."  
  
"I remember," she smiled. "You should have asked me."  
  
"It's probably better that I didn't."  
  
"Why do you say that?"  
  
"Because you got together with James after that. You would have just said no."  
  
"Ron," she giggled. "James was my friend. We never dated."  
  
"But...Hermione said..."  
  
"Hermione saw us together once."  
  
"Doing what?"  
  
She hadn't thought about all of this in years. "The day before that day in Herbology, James and I were in the library studying for something and Hermione was at the table across from us. I'm still not sure exactly what happened, but he kissed me and, well, that was it really."  
  
"I always thought..."  
  
"I think everyone thought that," she grinned. "But we never liked eachother like that. I think he was just making sure is all."  
  
"Why didn't you ever say anything to me?" he asked, embarrassed that he had never had the guts himself.  
  
"I dunno. Just scared I suppose."  
  
"Wow,"  
  
"I really wanted to seventh year, but with all that was going on, it just didn't feel apporopriate."  
  
Ron thought back to the height of Voldemort's return. How much he had wanted and needed someone to confide in (other than Hermione and Harry). How lonely had had been. "I could have used you then."  
  
"Even with everything else?" she questioned, amazed.  
  
"It would have been nice to be in love with someone..." he realized what he had said and did his best to repair the damage. "Not that I'm saying I was in love with you or anything, er, I don't mean that I didn't , bugger, I hope that didn't come out as weird as I think it did."  
  
"No," Gemma shook. "I know exactly what you mean. It was rough for everyone," she sighed deeply. "If I had know, I would have, well, I would have said something."  
  
"Me too."  
  
"It's kind of sad isn't it?" she looked back up into his eyes. "Realizing something like this."  
  
He nodded.  
  
"I mean, we could have really had something." The words gave her goosebumps.   
  
Ron was already kicking himself inside for chickening out.   
  
She continued. "And after all these years we meet back up and I've got a boyfriend. It's a shame."  
  
"Well, friends wouldn't be so bad would it?" he suggested with a smirk. "We always got along back in school, you know, when we would talk to eachother."  
  
"Friends actually sounds really good," she exclaimed.  
  
"Friends it is then."  
  
"Okay," Gemma giggled.   
  
She watched him until he was gone and spent the rest of the rest of her time alone trying to cough up the butterflies that had flown into her throat.  
  
Around 8 that night, David arrived with a basket full of warm Chinese.   
  
"You look unbelievable," he murmured, pulling her close and kissing her deeply. "Mmmmm."  
  
"Mmm what," she laughed.  
  
He ran his tongue down her throat playfully, pressing his lips firmly against her supple skin. "You smell good enough to eat," he examined.  
  
She drew his face back up to hers and pecked the side of his mouth softly. "If you play your cards right, I might just let you have a taste."  
  
David grinned mischevously. "How did I ever get mixed up with such a magnificent tease?"  
  
"Just lucky I guess," she replied, pulling away and taking the food over to the table.  
  
As she set out the plates and opened the boxes, he had a look around the place.  
  
"This is great," he said, testing out the overstuffed couch.  
  
"Do you like it?"  
  
"I love it. Who would have thought you'd find a place like this in such an old wizarding community."  
  
"I can't believe it either. My neighbors are really great as well."  
  
"You know, rumor has it the infamous Harry Potter lives somewhere around here."  
  
"There just might be some truth to that," Gemma winked, setting out some eggrolls.  
  
"Really?" David asked, getting back up and joining her in the dining area. "Have you seen him?"  
  
"We can have dinner with him tonight if you don't mind postponing our little rendezvous."  
  
"Oh, I don't know," he sighed, wrapping his arms around her tightly. "You look a little too good to put off, even if it is to meet one of the greatest quidditch players of this century."  
  
"Keep touching me like that and we won't make it through the fried rice."  
  
As it were, they hardly made it through dinner before giving into temptation and spent the rest of the night tangled up in her sheets, making a meal out of eachother.  
  
When morning came around, they reluctantly rolled out of bed and she watched him as he threw on his clothes.  
  
"You look even better the morning after," he moaned, slipping his arms into the robe she had pulled on and pushing her firmly against himself.   
  
She kissed him feverishly, biting his bottom lip ever so slightly. "Careful," she grinned. "Don't want to be late for class."  
  
"They would wait."  
  
"Not long."  
  
After readjusting her robe and making sure he had everyhting, Gemma walked him out.   
  
"How about lunch?" He asked.  
  
"I can't."  
  
He kissed her deeply.  
  
"I still can't," she giggled.  
  
They were in the process of sharing another long embrace when they heard footsteps on the stairs.  
  
"Oh! 'Scuse us!" Harry exclaimed, shading his eyes and trying to turn Ron back around.  
  
"Oh no! It's okay really!" Gemma laughed. "David was just leaving."  
  
The two of them came down slowly, unsure of what to do.  
  
"Um, David, this is Harry Potter and Ron Weasley."  
  
They all shook hands.  
  
"Wow," David breathed, eyeing Harry's forehead. "It's a real pleasure."  
  
"Same here," Harry replied.  
  
"Where are you headed off to?" Gemma asked, ignoring the warmth that was quickly spreading though her body from knowing Ron's eyes were on her.  
  
"Harry's got practice, and I was just on my way to pick up breakfast. Hermione's upstiars."  
  
"Oh. Do you have a minute? I'll go with you."   
  
Ron, who had been hoping to run into her anyway, nodded. "Sure."  
  
She gave David one last, tiny kiss on the cheek and waved goodbye.  
  
"Well, I'm off as well," Harry added. "Nice seeing you again Gemma."  
  
"You too Harry," she agreed.  
  
"We'll save some for you mate," Ron added.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
When David and Harry had both gone, Gemma ushered Ron into her flat.   
  
"I'll just be a minute or so," she assured him. "Make yourself at home."  
  
Ron gave her a comforting grin. "Take your time."  
  
She dissappeared into the bedroom and he examined the space more closely.   
  
"The place looks great," he called after her, examining the pictures on the mantle.  
  
"Thanks. I finished it yesterday," she called back.  
  
It wasn't long before she emerged, wearing a thick knit toggle cardigan and her second favorite pair of jeans.  
  
"Ready?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"I'm starving."  
  
The streets outside their flats were bustling with witches and wizards of all ages and types all seeming to have somewhere extrememly important to be. A few were rather rude as they pushed by while others were quite sociable, stopping to utter polite salutations and well wishes.   
  
Outside of Pennylow's Perfect Pasties, the neighborhood bakery, they ran into a couple of other old friends from Hogwart's, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas.  
  
"It's good to see you mate," Ron exclaimed, patting Seamus on the shoulder. "It's been a while."  
  
"Been out of the country," He explained. "Working my bum off."  
  
Dean, who had been staring at Gemma, chimed in. "Well, I've been right here all the time and look what I've missed."  
  
Gemma wasn't sure whether she should be offended or flattered by his overly obvious gawking.  
  
Seamus, who hadn't really noticed her at all until that moment, turned to get a better look at her. "No way...Gemma?"  
  
She grinned in acknowledgement.  
  
"I haven't seen you in years!"  
  
"I know!"  
  
"Where've you been?"  
  
"Oh you know," she shrugged. "Around."  
  
"So, are you two together or something?" Dean asked, remembering the crush Ron had had on her way back when.  
  
The question brought a rosy flush to each of their cheeks.  
  
"No," Ron answered. "Gemma just moved into our building."  
  
"Well, in that case, I'll be coming around alot more often," he winked.  
  
There was an awkward moment in which both Ron and Gemma weren't sure exactly what to say.  
  
"Well, we beter hurry. Hermione's waiting," Ron finally choked out.  
  
"Yeah, we've got to be going as well," Dean said, glancing down at his wrist watch. "C'mere you," he grinned, pulling Gemma into a tight squeeze. "Don't be a stranger."  
  
"I'll do my best," she lied.  
  
"Sorry about him," Seamus sighed once Dean was out of ear shot. "He's a bit off if you know what I mean."  
  
"I'll take your word for it," she snickered.  
  
"C'mon," Ron continued. "We probably should get back."  
  
"They haven't changed a bit."  
  
Back at Hermione's flat, they all shared a big breakfast of eggs and sausage, pumpkin pasties, cinnamon whirls and coffee. While they ate, Gemma told them as much as she could about herself and they did the same. Each of them shared funny stories from their days at Hogwart's and told jokes about their families (Ron's were always the best) and friends. When it was all said and done, they had ended up talking for a little over three hours and unknowingly had layed the foundation for three very strong friendships.  
  
Over the next 4 months, Gemma and Harry also became aqquainted with eachother and before long, it was as if she had always been a part of the group. Hermione, especially, was thankful to have another girl around to talk to. She'd never had anyone that she could go to when she needed to discuss both Ron and Harry, or even just to kid around about them for that matter. Of course, there was always Ginny, but it would be a little awkward trying to strike up a conversation about Ron with her. Harry also loved to sit and chat with Gemma. It seemed like she always knew just what to say to make him laugh, even if he'd been having a particularly terrible day. Ron, on the other hand, enjoyed talking with Gemma, but for different reasons. Sure she was turning out to be an amazing friend, but he wanted more than that. Everytime he was with her, he had to fight the urge to reach out and pull her close. He found himself wondering what her lips must feel like and how he was ever going to be able to cope with being "just friends". How could he possibly keep his feelings for her bottled up? In a nutshell, she was everything he'd ever wanted and everything he'd never be able to have.   
  
What Ron didn't know though, was that Gemma was experiencing those same exact feelings. She hid them well of course, but every day it got a little bit harder. She had an insatiable craving for his touch, his attention. So much so that she would linger in the hallways in the hopes of running into him and ask to borrow things just to strike up a conversation. 'This is wrong' she would tell herself when those oh so familiar butterflies would start fluttering around in the pit of her stomach. 'You're with David. You love David. Ron's your friend and that's all there is to it'. She convinced herself time and time again that if she were single then things would be different, but that just wasn't the case. She did her best to push him as far out of her mind as possible, but she too would lie awake at night, fanticizing about the moment at dinner when their hands brushed against eachother or when their bodies touched slightly as she passed him on the stairs. No matter what Gemma did, she couldn't get him out of her mind. Everything, every single, solitary thought, always lead back to him. She could be catching up on the history and survival of blast ended skrewts and suddenly she would be reminded of a joke he told two weeks prior. It was a pitiless situation to be in to say the least and left them both wishing for one of two things: 1. For Gemma and David to split up or 2. For their infatuation with eachother to fade.  
  
"So," Harry asked one morning while they were having breakfast together. "What should we do today?"  
  
"I'm not sure," Hermione answered taking a sip of her coffee and gently setting it back down on the table. "I'm free all day though."  
  
"Same here," Ron added.  
  
Gemma gave a small laugh. "We're a sad bunch aren't we? It's a Saturday and not one of us has a thing to do."  
  
"I thought you were going out with David tonight?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Yeah, but that's not until around eight or something. 'Til then I'm free as well."  
  
"At least you've got something planned, unlike the three of us."  
  
"Hey, you all could have dates to you know," she stated matter-of-factly. "You just don't like to take chances. I mean, really Harry, you can't go anywhere without a flock of girls nipping at your heels and Hermione, what about that guy you're always talking about? What's his name...John? Why don't you call him up and ask him to dinner? And Ron, I'm sure there's tons of girls who'd like a little attention from you."  
  
He shook his head. "Not that I know of."  
  
"What about that Gillian girl from work? She's sweet."  
  
"Not interested."   
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I'm just not."  
  
"You have to have a reason."  
  
"Well I don't," he contorted.  
  
"It's worth a shot isn't it? I mean, you never know. She could be 'the one'."  
  
"She's right Ron," Hermione exclaimed. "Wouldn't it be awful if the girl of your dreams were right in front of you and you never even knew because you were just too scared to ask?"  
  
The girl of my dreams is right in front of me' he thought desperately. "If by not asking out this Gillian person, I spend my last days alone and bitter, I'll be sure to think of this moment so that I can give myself a good knock in the ass for the both of you. How's that sound?"  
  
"I'll take it," Gemma smiled.  
  
"I like being single," Harry stated, tossing the Daily Prophet aside.  
  
"You do do you?" Hermione snickered.  
  
"Yeah I do. Dating's not all it's cracked up to be."  
  
"I don't mind it," Gemma declared.  
  
"Well, It's a real pain if you ask me."  
  
"You probably just haven't dated anyone you were that interested in."  
  
"It's not that, I just don't like picking the person up and sitting through dinner and all that stuff."  
  
Gemma got up and began to clear the table. "I guess I can understand that. It is a bit uncomfortable at first. You don't know what to say, you can't figure out what to do with your hands...it's kind of embarrassing."  
  
"Exactly. I would rather just stay at home with my friends and be bored."  
  
"Thanks mate," Ron laughed, grabbing his plate and glass and taking them over to the sink where she was standing.  
  
"Don't you ever get lonely though?" she asked him while placing a dishwashing charm on the sink.  
  
'You have no idea' he thought. "Not really."  
  
"Hmm. Then I suppose you never get the itch to go out."  
  
"Sure I do, but like Harry, I'd rather be with you all." 


	2. Two

The Romanticism of Simplicity  
  
Chapter Two  
  
That afternoon, Hermione and Gemma did a little shopping, buying a few new robes for work and a couple sexy undergarments each just for fun. Harry and Ron went too, but spent most of their time staring at the latest quidditch gear.  
  
Time flew by and soon they were back home and Gemma found herself getting ready for her date with David. Eight o' clock came and went though and at eleven thrity, when she still hadn't recieved any word, bad or good, she decided it best to go look for him.  
  
Gemma rapped on the door to David's flat and when there was no answer she turned the knob and pushed the unlocked door open. A quick scan of the area told her that he was most certainly there. His shoes and pants were strewn carelessly about the living room floor and as she got closer to the bedroom, she found the remaining articles laying across the backs of chairs and on the sofa table. She also noticed a pair of heels and skirt that she was quite positive didn't belong to her. She took a few small steps closer to the bedroom, and stopped dead in her tracks as her ears picked up on soft giggles and moaning. Her heart began to pound rapidly in her throat as she quickly shoved the door ajar.   
  
"Oh my God!" she cried, taking in the unwholesome sight. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"  
  
"Oh God, Gemma," David shrieked, pushing the young girl, who at the moment was straddling him, to the side. "Uh, I-I can explain."  
  
Gemma's entire body felt as though it would explode with anger. "Don't bother."  
  
She turned on her heel and began making her way back through the living room.  
  
David fumbled after her, fighting to keep the twisted sheet in place around his waist.  
  
"Gemma please!" He begged, making a wild grab for her arm.  
  
"How could you do this to me!?" she spat, throwing his hand back in his face.   
  
"I can explain," he repeated.  
  
There were so many different emotions whirling through her head that it was becoming increasingly diffucult just to see straight.   
  
"How could you possibly explain this David!?"  
  
"It's not what it looks like?"  
  
"I walked in on you fucking her for God's sake!"  
  
"W-we were just..."  
  
"Just what!? Checking eachother for warts!?"  
  
He fumbled desperately for an explanation. "Gemma I-I..."  
  
She threw up her hands in utter disgust. "I can't believe this is happening," she breathed, grabbing her head to steady herself. "I can't believe after all this time..."  
  
"Gemma please!"  
  
"How long huh?" she asked, rounding on him. "How many times?"  
  
Just then, the girl he'd been riding emerged from the bedroom looking very disheveled. It was then that Gemma actually got a good look at her. She was tall and blonde and very young. Not a day over 19 by the looks of it. And even worse, Gemma recognize her.  
  
"Oh David..." Gemma moaned in disbelief. "A student?"  
  
His cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson. "Well, I,"  
  
Her eyes were now stinging with hot tears. "An entire year we've been together David. An entire year!" She turned to meet the girl's eyes. "Did he tell you that?" she inquired of her. "How about the fact that he's been telling me he loves me...or," she averted her attention back to David. "Do you tell everyone that these days?"  
  
"I-I'm gonna g-go," the girl stammered, searching hopelessly for her right shoe.  
  
"Oh no," Gemma shook. "I am the one who interrupted after all."  
  
Before she could reach the door, David took her by the hand and pulled her back.   
  
"Please don't leave it like this Gemma!" he pleaded.  
  
She shook him off forcefully. "What do you want me to say?" A few fresh tears slid from her cheeks to the ground. "I'm sorry you forgot to call. I'm sorry for worrying. I'm sorry to pop in on you at such an inopputune time. I'll just head back home and pretend I didn't see anything at all. Would that make you happy?"  
  
"At least let me apologize."  
  
Despite her stern stance, her voice was shaky and broken. "Empty words David...they're as worthless to me as you."  
  
He watched her dissapparate with a loud 'CRACK', knowing without a doubt that he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.  
  
She apparated in the living room of her flat and stood for a moment as though frozen in disbelief. Her insides were bubbling over with a mixture of anger and confusion and she couldn't help but feel like a complete fool for having been with him. She went over it again and again in her head, trying to pinpoint the exact moment where things went awry. Had he acted strangely in any way? Had he said anything that would have suggested he was losing interest? What could she have possibly done to bring this on? If he didn't want to be with her, why would he tell her he loved her? The questions came rushing over her like a tidal wave.   
  
Ron, Harry and Hermione, who had just returned from dinner at The Leaky Cauldron, heard the crack andwent downstairs to see if everything was all right. They had never know her to have a date with David that didn't last until the next morning.   
  
"Gemma?" Hermione asked, knocking a couple times on the door before entrering. "Oh no," she gasped when she saw that she was crying. "What happened? Is David all right?"  
  
"David's just fine," she exclaimed, wiping away two big tears threatening to drip from her chin. "He's just bloody perfect."  
  
"What happened?"   
  
"I walked in on him with another woman."  
  
"No way!" she gaped, plopping down next to her on the sofa. "He's cheating on you?"   
  
"Yeah. And with a student no less!" Gemma declared.  
  
"Oh Gemma I'm so sorry," she whispered, placing a comforting arm around her shoulders.  
  
"I feel like such a git!"  
  
"Don't say that. He's the one who should be beating himself up right now, not you."  
  
"What a bastard!" Ron spat. "How could he do that to you?"  
  
"You should have seen them together."  
  
"I can imagine," Hermione sighed.  
  
"How long has this been going on?" Harry asked her, sitting down on the unoccupied side of the couch.  
  
"I dunno...I don't think I even want to know for that matter." She got up and began pacing back and forth in front of them. "I'm so mad I feel like I could explode! God, and I'm embarrassed! And confused and...and... God I dunno!" She stared at them all desparingly. "It just doesn't make since!"  
  
"C'mere," Ron sighed reaching out to her.  
  
Gemma, feeling feeble and defeated, wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder. "It just doesn't make since," she breathed.  
  
Every day after that for a week, David showed up to "talk things through", but Gemma wasn't willing to listen. 'He'll just try to get me back,' she contemplated. 'He'll tell me he's sorry and I'll believe him and then I'll just get hurt again'. But when he finally did stop coming, she started to second guess herself. 'What if he really was sorry? What if it was just that one time and it really never does happen again?' She wanted desperately to hate him, but it seemed like the harder she tried, the harder it got.   
  
The world kept turning though and she began to realize that time does heal all wounds. But that's not to say that it still wasn't tough. Every now and again, David would cross her mind and the old wound on the base of her heart would open back up, leaving her as miserable as the day it was inflicted. As time ticked by, the pain subsided and she was able to move on.   
  
A couple of months later, for the first time since she had moved in, she was going to be alone with Ron. (Harry was in Egypt for a week for qudditch and Hermione had been sent to Romania to keep an eye on a shady character the Ministry had grown weary of). He did everything he could to keep her spirits up, from making her breakfast in bed to reciting rotten jokes, which, more than a few times, succeeded in getting a laugh. It was awkward at first, it being just the two of them, but it didn't take long for them to grow quite fond of the situation. It gave them the chance to really get to know one another. Some nights they would chatter on for hours about nothing in particular, recalling random things from their pasts and telling long drawn out stories that always wound up losing their point. Other nights they wouldn't say anything at all, just sit and enjoy the other's company. Many times they would fall asleep on the couch and wake up tangled in eachothers arms. Those were the nights that Ron liked the best. It felt so good to lay there next to her, to take in her warmth. He could have held her forever and a day and still not gotten enough. 'This is it', he thought to himself the first time he woke up beside her. 'This is how I want to spend my life. Right here. With this woman'. He wondered if he would ever get up the nerve to pursue a relationship with her, which was an option now that she was single again, and tried to decide what an appropriate period of time to wait would be. Neither of them had said anything about their past crushes on the other since that day in the hallway and there was no way of knowing if she even still felt that way about him.   
  
"I think I should meet your family," Gemma asserted, setting her book down on the coffee table. "What do you think?"  
  
"If you want to," he answered.  
  
"Do you think they'd like me?"  
  
"If I like you they'll like you."  
  
"And do you?"  
  
"Do I what?"  
  
"Like me."  
  
Ron turned to meet her eyes, a playful smirk spreading across his face. "No."  
  
"Well!" she smiled, pushing herself off the couch and starting towards the kitchen. "You really know what to say to break a girl's heart Mr. Weasley."  
  
Laughing, he got up and joined her. "Ah, you know I love you."  
  
"Well, I don't love you!"  
  
"Oh come on," he pulled her into a tight hug. "I'm such a loveable guy."  
  
"That's what you think!"  
  
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he began. "Can you ever forgive me?"  
  
She let go and set her glass in the sink. "I suppose."  
  
"Good," he replied.  
  
There was a short silence between them.  
  
"Well," she sighed. "I think I'm going to go to bed. I'm beat."  
  
"Yeah, me too."  
  
"Do you have anything planned for tomorrow?" Gemma asked.  
  
"Nothing," he answered.  
  
"Me either. Oh, wait...Harry's coming home tomorrow isn't he?"  
  
Ron thought for a second. "Yeah. Tomorrow night."  
  
As she talked, she made her way to her bedroom and he followed.   
  
"I'll make sure and get something for dinner then."  
  
"What are you gonna get?"  
  
"I dunno. Does it matter?"  
  
"Not to me."  
  
Gemma opened the doors to her wardrobe and pulled out the old button-up shirt of David's that she had grown accustomed to wearing every night.   
  
"What's wrong?" Ron asked, noticing the way she was scrutinizing it.  
  
"I think I need a new shirt for bed. This one comes with baggage."  
  
"I know what you mean," he snickered.  
  
She sifted through her things, but nothing seemed suitable for some reason so she turned back around to Ron.  
  
"I"m going to borrow something of yours."  
  
"Just like that huh? You're not even going to ask?"  
  
"Do I need to?" When all he did was shrug, she took his hand and lead him back up to his flat. "Okay, you choose."  
  
"You want me to pick it out?"  
  
"It's quicker this way."  
  
"Ah," he nodded. "Right then."  
  
After a couple minutes of searching, he pulled out one of his old button-ups from Hogwart's and handed it to her.  
  
"You still have these?" She smiled in astonishment.  
  
"I was saving them for a special occasion."  
  
"Really? Well, thanks. I'll be careful with it I promise."  
  
"Anytime."  
  
She folded it neatly over her arm and reached up to kiss him softly on the cheek. "I don't know what I would do without you."  
  
"Same here."  
  
"'Night Ron."  
  
"'Night."  
  
He watched her leave and after hearing the door click shut, threw himself down on his bed, his cheek still tingling from the touch of her lips. The thought of her down there, wearing nothing but his shirt was sure to keep him up all night.   
  
Ron wasn't the only one who had a restless night though. Gemma was finding it increasingly difficult to get him off her mind. His smile, his laugh, everything about him. After David though, she wasn't sure she wanted to get involved with anyone else. It had crushed her to see him with that other woman and she didn't think she had it in her to get over another heartbreak like that.   
  
The sound of clinking in the kitchen caused Ron to wake with a start. He sat up, taking a moment to focus in on the room. Warm, glittery sunlight was pouring in through the windows giving everything a dream-like glow. He listened closely, trying to decide if he should whip out his wand or run and just as he was about to brace himself to do the later of the two, he caught the sound of soft singing.   
  
"Morning," Gemma beamed at him as he emerged from the hallway. "Did I wake you?"  
  
"It's all right," he assured her. If ever he was going to be woken up by someone he would definately want it to be her.   
  
As he sat down at the breakfast table and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his vision became clearer and he examined her more closely. Suddenly it felt as though his heart had somersaulted into his throat. There she stood wearing nothing but the shirt he had lent her the night before and a pencil whcih was holding her hair up in a loose twist on the top of her head. She looked absolutely increadible to say the least.  
  
"I came down to borrow some sugar and saw that you had some dishes that needed done, so, I'm doing them," she explained, finsihing the last cup and drying her hands.  
  
"Y-you didn't have to do that," he sputtered, watching her sit down across from him and fold her smooth legs one over the other.  
  
"Just say thank you," Gemma laughed, pouring them each a fresh cup of coffe.  
  
"T-thank you."   
  
"I needed something to do anyway. I couldn't sleep."  
  
"Why not?" It took every ounce of his strength not to focus on her hand as she ran it up and down her calf.  
  
"Dunno," she lied, avoiding eye contact. "Had alot on my mind I guess."  
  
"Mmm. I know how that is."  
  
"The longer I sit here though, the harder it is to stay awake. I might go lay back down for a couple of hours. It's early still."  
  
Ron nodded in agreement. "Sounds good to me."  
  
She stretched her arms up high over her head and yawned deeply. "What about you? Did you sleep okay?"  
  
"Not really."  
  
"Any particular reason?"  
  
'Yeah. You' he thought. "I don't think so. Just restless."  
  
Gemma stood up and motioned for him to follow as she headed back to his bedroom.  
  
"We always sleep better when we sleep together," she explained, folding back his sheets and climbing in.  
  
He stood, watching the woman he had fallen head over heels for crawl into his bed, and became torn between hiding and getting in next to her.   
  
"What's the matter?" she asked.   
  
"Er, nothing," he exclaimed taking a few steps closer.  
  
"Come on then. I don't bite."  
  
'I wouldn't mind it if you did'. Slowly, he inched in next to her and, without thinking, she moved closer, resting her head on his chest. His heart was pounding madly.   
  
"What's wrong?" she questioned, looking up at him.  
  
"Nothing," he replied.  
  
"You're tense."  
  
"Just a little."  
  
"Am I making you nervous?" She smiled.  
  
"Just a little."  
  
Without warning, her heart also began to speed up. "Is it good nervous or bad nervous?"  
  
Ron stared at her. "I'm not sure what I should say."  
  
She pondered on whether she should go there or not. "Well, are you nervous because I'm not someone you want this close to you, or, are you nervous because I am someone you want this close to you."  
  
His brain was screaming at him to take things slow, but his body was practically aching with anticipation. needless to say, his body was winning. "The last one," he retorted.   
  
"Then," she began, throwing caution to the wind and scooting a little closer. "What can I do to help you relax?"  
  
He took in a long, deep breath and wrapped his arms around her waist. "More of this."  
  
She slid her hand up his chest to his cheek. "How's this?" she continued as she lifted her face closer to his.  
  
"Closer," he whispered.  
  
Gemma happily oblidged, slipping one of her legs between his and letting her hands slide back down his body. "How about now?"  
  
"Closer," he repeated, taking in another deep breath as her hands found the bottom of his shirt, sliding underneath.  
  
As she talked, their lips touched slightly. "And now?'  
  
He let his own hands begin to wander. "Closer."  
  
She pressed her lips gently against his, pulling back slightly to allow him the chance to decide the intensity. Wanting to keep her as tight to him as possible, he rolled her over on her back. 'What are you doing!' he thought to himself as her tongue mingled with his. 'Not now. Not without her knowing how you feel'.  
  
"Gemma," he whispered, pulling back from her tender kisses.  
  
"Please," she begged. "Don't say anything."   
  
"I don't know if I can do this."  
  
"I need you to Ron," she breathed.  
  
He brushed a few stray strands of hair from her face, letting his fingertips linger on her cheek and neck. God knows he wanted to. "I love you Gemma.  
  
Her breath caught in her throat and she felt as though she might loose herself in the moment. "What?"  
  
"I'm in love with you."  
  
His words were sincere and had such a powerful effect on her that when she opened her mouth to reply, no sound came out.   
  
"If we do this," he continued, finding her hand somehow and intertwining their fingers. "Everything changes."  
  
She nodded weakly.  
  
"It won't ever be the same between us."  
  
"Do you want that?"  
  
"I want you Gemma. All of you, not just this."  
  
She wasn't sure if she was crying out of happiness or fear, but a few tears streamed down her cheeks just the same.   
  
"Don't hurt me Ron," she begged, thinking of David. "I don't think I could manage it."  
  
"I could never hurt you," he swore, kissing the tears away softly.  
  
Their lips met in a soft kiss and from that moment on, their lives as they knew them would never be the same. 


	3. Three

The Romanticism of Simplicity  
  
Chapter Three  
  
The game against Egypt had gone so well, that the coach had decided to cancel the last practice and send the team off to do their own thing. Harry, who was worn out anyway, thought he would surprise Ron and Gemma and head home early. He arrived at their building around 2 in the afternoon and checked Gemma's flat first, finding no one. Next, he went up to Ron's and knocked once before entering and having a look around.  
  
"Anyone here?" he called out, spotting the two full coffee mugs on the table. "Ron? Gemma?"  
  
Just then he heard the bedroom door open and soon after, Ron emerged looking rather flushed.  
  
"Harry!" he whispered excitedly. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Callow let us go early...why are you whispering?"  
  
"Gemma's asleep in the bedroom," he explained.   
  
Harry wasn't sure how to respond to that statement. "What did I miss?" he grinned.  
  
"Nothing much," Ron smiled, raking his fingers through his already messy hair.  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"I'll tell you all about it mate I promise," Ron assured him. "But first I want to know how the game went."  
  
They talked for around an hour and a half, Harry filling Ron in on the win and Ron, in return, spilling his guts about Gemma. It had only been a week and yet so much had changed.   
  
They were in the process of discussing what day Hermione would be back when Gemma appeared at the end of the hallway. Her long, golden hair had come down around her shoulders in big, loose waves and she had slipped back into Ron's old shirt.   
  
"Harry!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck in salutation. "I thought you weren't coming home until tonight."  
  
"Callow sent us home," he explained, squeezing her tight.   
  
"When did you get here?"  
  
"Oh about an hour ago I'd say. I've just been catching up with Ron."  
  
Gemma caught Ron's gaze and felt her heart skip a beat. "I should probably go get cleaned up. I still have to get something for dinner."  
  
Ron stood up and followed her to the door.  
  
"Is there anything in particular that you want?" She called to Harry from the living room.  
  
He shook his head. "No. Just anything."  
  
"I'll see you when I get back then."  
  
"See you."  
  
When they reached her flat, Gemma turned to look up at him.   
  
He stepped closer, taking her face in his hands. "How do you feel?"  
  
She thought about it for a second. "Good. And you?"  
  
"Good," he smiled. "I meant what I said Gemma," he stated. "I won't hurt you."  
  
"I know," she said, folding her hands into his.   
  
"I'll make you happy."  
  
She kissed him sweetly. "I already am."  
  
Before they knew it, another week had gone by and Hermione had returned with news of her own. Hers though, was not of a happy nature. The suspicions about the man she had been sent to watch had all turned out to be true. His name was Armen Sinthro and he had been working to establish a fleet of wizards who had once been avid followers of Voldemort. Luckily they were able to bring him down before things got too far out of hand, or at least they hoped that was so. There was really no way of knowing just what he had been able to accomplish outside of the week she and John Felton, another auror, had been watching him. No way to know how long he had been at it or who all he had gotten to.   
  
"What's your next move?" Gemma asked. She too was an auror at the Ministry and quite frankly, the situation scared her.  
  
"I'm not sure yet. John and I are meeting with Fudge in the morning to discuss our reports."  
  
"This is not good," Ron exclaimed. "Not good at all."  
  
"It could be nothing," Hermione assured him.   
  
"But most likely it's something," Gemma contorted. "And we definately need to stay on the top of things."  
  
"She's right," Harry added. "We shouldn't turn our backs just yet."  
  
"I'll keep you all posted," Hermione said, taking a long sip of her coffee. "I have a feeling that before this is said and done, we're going to need eachother."  
  
The days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months without anything else suspicious popping up. Everyone but Harry, Hermione, Ron and Gemma had forgotten about the man that had been taken in, but without any reason to worry, they too were beginning to let it slip. Why bother yourself with could be's?  
  
Life had, once again, settled back down and showed no sign of reving back up again any time soon. Ron and Gemma sank deeper into love with eachother the longer they were together, Harry was quickly becoming the best seeker England had ever had and Hermione was still being praised for her magnificent work bringing in Sinthro. It didn't seem like anything could bring them down, but like they say, when it rains it pours and those storm clouds weren't far off on the horizon.  
  
The second sign of trouble came at two in the morning on a cold, blustery night in December. A soft tapping at Ron's bedroom window roused Gemma, who had slept over. She fumbled around for her wand on the nightstand.  
  
"Lumos," she muttered once her fingers had wound around the smooth, familiar birchwood.  
  
"Whasthematter," Ron asked groggily, watching her walk over to the icy window.  
  
"An owl," she said, opening it and letting the massive bird inside.   
  
"What's it want?"  
  
"It's got a letter," Gemma reached out and took the small envelope from it's leg, patting it thankfully.   
  
"A letter?" Ron was now sitting up in bed, struggling to see through the darkness. "Who for?"  
  
The red lettering was jagged and crooked as though scribbled quickly. "Me," she answered turning it over to examine the seal. "It's from the ministry."  
  
Gently, she broke the seal, opening it up and ufolding the thick, yellowish parchment inside.  
  
Miss Herrin,  
  
Please excuse the indecent hour. A situation has broken out in Romania and we are in need of your assistance. Come to The Pheonix Feather as soon as possible and have your wand at the ready. Felton, Talon and Malfoy will be awaiting your arrival.  
  
Yours Sincerely,  
  
Cornelius Fudge  
  
The Minister of Magic  
  
Ministry of Magic  
  
"What does it say?" Ron asked, throwing off the covers.  
  
"I've got to go to Romania," she sighed.  
  
"What...now?"  
  
"That's what it says." She stepped over to his side of the bed and bent to plant a kiss on his forehead. "I'll see you when I get back."  
  
"Wait a second," he stopped her, taking her hand and pulling her into a hug. "Be careful all right?"  
  
She smiled up at him. "I'll do my best."  
  
He kissed her softly. "I love you."  
  
"I love you too."  
  
Before heading off, she stopped by her flat for some warmer clothes and her wool cape.   
  
The scene at The Pheonix Feather, which was a small pub, was not at all what she expected. The place, now empty, had been almost entirely destroyed. Chairs and tables had been burned to a crisp, walls had been knocked down, windows shattered and so on. 'What on earth,' she thought, trying desperately to control her racing heart. She stood examining the room for a few more minutes before hearing the blasts from outside. Without a second thought, she raised her wand and ran towards the noise. She had barely gotten a toe outside the door though before she was knocked back in by a familiar face. They hit the hardwood floor with a thud, smacking Gemma's right shoulder against a jagged corner of the counter top along the way. She reached up instinctively to examine the fresh gash on her arm, taking deep breaths to keep herself from passing out. It was the sort of pain that was temporarily blinding.  
  
"Malfoy!" she gasped, regaining her footing. "What the hell is going on!?"  
  
"Took you long enough!" he spat. "I don't know who these bastards are suppose to be, but we've been trying to hold them back for over an hour."  
  
Her head was spinning. "Where are the others?"  
  
"Out there somehwere. We got split up when they started firing the unforgiveables at us."  
  
Her stomach flipped violently. "Anyone been hit?"  
  
"We've managed to stop a few of their men, but so far no one's been killed."  
  
"Right then," she continued, swallowing down her fear. "How many are there?"  
  
"Twelve or so, I'd say," Malfoy watched the color drain from her face. "You're the best there is Gemma. Keep you head on straight and there'll be no cause for worry."  
  
She nodded despite herself and with one last look at the warm blood trickling down her sleeve, took a few steps toward the door. "Ready?" she asked.  
  
"As I'll ever be," he grinned.  
  
They lept out into the street, dodging the bursts of green light flying at their chests and focusing hard on the area ahead. Gemma, spotting two large, cloaked figures, held out her wand and shouted the first curse that came to mind.  
  
"Petrificus Totalus!" The words were shaky, but powerful enough to do their job.   
  
The two figures dropped their wands, becoming stiff as boards and falling face first to the ground.  
  
"Come on, you can do better than that," Malfoy laughed, lunging forward.  
  
Suddenly, the ominous figures seemed to be everywhere, firing from all directions.   
  
"Expelliarmus!" Malfoy scrame, disarming one of them and blasting them into a corner.   
  
Gemma kept an eye out for John and Keneda as they pushed farther down the street.   
  
"Do you think they're all right?" she questioned, ducking around a corner.  
  
"Don't think about that now. We've got to stay focused."  
  
Just then, something charged at them from behind, knocking her clear to the ground and landing on top of her.   
  
"Well, well," he remarked. "What have we hear?"  
  
Gemma caught Malfoy out of the corner of her eye struggling to push another one of the dark figures off of himself. He had a fresh cut just under his hairline that was sickeningly deep.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" she barked, fighting to breathe under his weight.  
  
"You don't remember me?" His voice was deep and distant.  
  
"Should I?"  
  
"It was only one night, but I thought it was fairly memorable."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"Come on Gemma," he brought his face down close to hers. "Don't tell me you've forgotten your first time."  
  
Her breath caught in her throat. It couldn't be. There was no way.  
  
"Ty?"  
  
A wicked grin erupted on his stubbly face. "I knew it was good."  
  
For a moment she was frozen in place, ubelieving of the man in front of her, but she soon found her courage and began flailing her legs about determinedly, trying with all her might to wriggle loose.  
  
"Don't you want to stay and catch up?" he inquired, keeping her pinned tight to the snow covered ground. "It's been a long time."  
  
She turned her attention back to Malfoy, who was still trying his damndest to keep his opponent at bay.  
  
Ty moved closer. "You look good this way, all angry and flustered."  
  
She cringed as he slid his tongue up her neck to her mouth.  
  
"I think I'll keep you around," he said, grabbing her face. "I could use a good fuck."  
  
He started to pull her up, but as he was getting to his knees he was sideswiped by a blast of red light and knocked out cold.   
  
Gemma looked over, stunned. "Kenneda!" she cried.  
  
The tiny girl came forward, brushing some loose strands of snow-soaked hair out of her eyes and handing Gemma her wand.  
  
"Don't you just hate pushy men?" she smirked.   
  
She waited for a reply, but Gemma was speechless, peering over at the comatose man to her left.  
  
"What the matter?" Kenneda inquired, touching her her arm and realizing she was trembling. "Gemma?"  
  
"Where's John?" Gemma finally asked, looking away and noticing that Malfoy had somehow managed to stun his own attacker.  
  
"Dunno," she shrugged. "Can't be far  
  
"Let's finish these gits off," Malfoy huffed, motioning for the two girls to follow him.  
  
With pure skill and some quick thinking, by the time they had found John, they pummel their way through an army of men. There were a few that got away (including Ty), but for the most part, they were all in custody.  
  
John had been knocked unconcious and didn't come to until well after they had returned home.   
  
"Tell me everything," Fudge had said, when they came stumbling into his office, bruised and bloody, and they had told him. Everything from what they were wearing to what curses they cast. He wouldn't have let them leave if they had done any less.   
  
"You should probably get cleaned up," he suggested when they had finsihed and were on their way out. "I want to keep this quiet until we know for sure who these people are."  
  
They nodded.  
  
"Don't let on that something happened," he continued. "That means no skipping out on work today. I want you all at your desks in thirty minutes."  
  
"Is he fucking kidding me?" Malfoy ranted. "We just spent six hours in the middle of nowhere dodging the unforgiveables and he wants us to sit through eight more hours of work!"  
  
"Don't let it get to you," Kenneda sighed. "It's Friday. We'll have all weekend to rest."  
  
"It isn't right Kenneda!"  
  
"I know, but there's nothing we can do about it," she glanced back over at Gemma. "Am I right or am I right?"  
  
Gemma didn't reply. Her mind was somewhere else.  
  
"Gemma? GEMMA!"  
  
"What?" she perked up, realizing she had been spoken to.  
  
"Are you all right?"  
  
"Fine."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"You don't look all fine," Malfoy retorted.  
  
"I'm just a little shaken up. I'll be all right," she promised, giving them as much of a smile as she could without splitting her lip even more than it already was.  
  
After straightening up as much as possible (they still looked pretty pathetic), they said their goodbyes and headed to their seperate offices on the sixth level which was already abuzz with rumors of the happenings from earlier that morning. Gemma ignored their stares and whispers as she trudged into her and Hermione's office where she and Ron were waiting.  
  
"Oh my God!" Hermione gasped, causing Ron to turn around and discover what she was gawking at. "What happened!?"  
  
"It's a long story," she said exasperatedly, taking Ron's outstretched hand and letting him pull her into his arms.  
  
"I was so worried," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.  
  
It felt so good to be held that way. "Sorry."  
  
"Is everyone else all right?"  
  
"John's got a pretty big bump on his head, but other than that, we're all fine."  
  
"You guys are the talk of the town," Hermione said.  
  
"I noticed. Fudge wants us to keep it all under wraps though."  
  
"You should go home and rest," Ron told her, holding her at arms length to get the full extent of the damage.  
  
She shook her head. "Can't. Wouldn't be 'discreet'."  
  
"That's crazy."  
  
"I know, but I'll live. A few scratches never hurt anybody."  
  
He touched the deep cut across her right eyebrow and she winced.  
  
"What'd you do that for!?"   
  
"Come on," he breathed.  
  
"Where are we going?"  
  
"To get you fixed up."  
  
"We'll be back in a minute," Gemma told Hermione as they left.  
  
They found an empty bathroom and he propped her up on one of the sinks. Next, he conjured up a soft towel, wet the end and began dabbing at the cut.  
  
"You know Mr. Weasley," she smiled. "You just might make a fair nurse one day."  
  
He blushed a little. "Laugh all you want, but somebody's got to take care of you."  
  
Gemma studied him as he worked to rememdy her bumps and felt her heart melt within her chest.   
  
"Ron," she took the towel and sat it down in the sink beside herself. "I love you."  
  
He held her gaze as he slipped his arms around her waist. "You're even beautiful when you're all banged up."   
  
She took his face in her hands and wrapped her legs aound his middle. "I mean it Ron."  
  
"So do I."  
  
He gently pressed his lips against hers. 


	4. Four

The Romanticism of Simplicity  
  
Chapter Four  
  
As the day went on, reports began to come in from all over England of strange groups of witches and wizards reaking havock. They had yet to discover the reasoning behind the attacks or what they were calling themselves. The only thing they knew for sure was that, somehow, it had something to do with Voldemort, no matter how much Fudge wanted to deny it.   
  
That night, after finishing up dinner, Gemma, Hermione, Ron and Harry were sitting around Gemma's crackling fireplace, discussing the events of early that morning.   
  
"Did you recognize anyone?" Harry asked her, taking a long swig of mulberry wine to calm his nerves.  
  
She nodded, keeping her eyes focused on her coffee. "An old friend of mine."  
  
"Who was it?"  
  
"Ty Morrow." Saying the name out loud gave her chills.   
  
"Morrow...Morrow..." The name sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.  
  
"Ty Morrow?" Hermione asked, looking puzzled. "Didn't you two..."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Didn't you two what?" Ron questioned, looking quickly from Gemma to Hermione,  
  
Gemma gave up on the coffee and stood up, walking towards the dining room to avoid their stares.   
  
"It was a long time ago," she explained, wrapping her arms around herself in an attempt to melt the ice that had apparantly settled in the pit of her stomach. "He was different then."  
  
"Where do I know that name from?" Harry pondered, turning to Hermione.  
  
"He went to Hogwart's," she stated. Harry shrugged so she added "Chaser for Hufflepuff."  
  
"Oooohhhh! Of course!"  
  
Ron, who was now the only person out of the know, followed Gemma.   
  
"Do I know this guy?"   
  
"Probably," she sighed. "He worked at the Ministry for about a year after training."  
  
He thought long and hard, back to his first year at the Ministry, back to all the other aurors he had come across, but nothing clicked.   
  
"I still can't remember him," he exclaimed.  
  
"It doesn't matter," she shook. "He's no one."  
  
He examined her pained expression. "What went on between the you two?"  
  
Seeing Ty again had had a stronger effect on her than she would have liked. All day, she had been struggling with trying to wipe his memory out of her mind, a feat that had nearly been impossible the first time and which showed no sign of easing up the second time.   
  
"Nothing worth talking about," Gemma assured him, picking up her cape and turning back to Hermione and Harry. "You guys can stay if you want, but I'm calling it a night."  
  
They nodded.  
  
"'Night," she said, mustering up as much of a grin as she could for Ron's sake and then pecking him lightly on the lips (the nick on hers was still rather sore). "I'll see you in the morning."  
  
He glanced over at Hermione, who was obviously not going to tell him anything, and resolved to try and get a little more out of Gemma.  
  
She had slipped off her robes and cardigan and was working on the buttons on her shirt when Ron came through the door, closing it behind himself.   
  
"Are you all right?" he pondered, sitting on the foot of the bed.  
  
"I'm fine," she lied, sliding off her shirt and pulling on the one Ron had let her borrow, bothering only with one button in the middle and then proceeding to unzip her jeans and kick them off.  
  
"Give me some credit Gemma," he contorted, watching her fold up her clothes. "I know you well enough to know when something is bothering you."  
  
"I'm fine," she continued. "Really."  
  
She bent to pick up her jeans, but had to stop half way because of the pain in her side from a rogue spell that had plowed into her gut.  
  
Ron took over, rolling back the sheets and setting her down on the bed.   
  
"I'm staying with you tonight," he told her, buttoning up the rest of the shirt.  
  
"You don't have to."  
  
"You shouldn't be by yourself like this."  
  
When he was finished with the buttons, Gemma took his hands and pulled him down next to her, savoring the heat from his body.  
  
"Why won't you tell me?" Ron asked.  
  
"It's a bad story," she answered, letting the soft thumping of his heart ease her into sleep. "It's not worth telling."  
  
"Did he do something to you?"  
  
"Yes...and no."  
  
"What does that mean?"  
  
"It means that I was young. I didn't know what I was doing."  
  
"How young?"  
  
"Seventeen."  
  
'Seventeen', he thought. 'Seventh year'. "How old was he?"  
  
"Eighteen." She pictured a young Ty, sitting under a tree by the lake at Hogwart's. He had been such a good friend.  
  
"Gemma?"   
  
"Yes?" She was surprised to feel a lump rise up in her throat as she spoke. Thinking about him was never a good thing.  
  
He heard the slight crack in her voice, but pressed on. "Were you together?"  
  
"He wanted to be."  
  
"But you didn't?"  
  
"I didn't know."  
  
"Did you two," he paused, unsure if he even wanted to know. "Did you sleep together?"  
  
A few unwelcome tears trickled down her face onto his shirt. "Once."  
  
"Did you love him?"  
  
"No," a few more tears tumbled after.  
  
"Well...why..."  
  
"James had left and I..." she closed her eyes in an attempt to stop her crying.   
  
"What?"  
  
"I was lonely," she whispered, suddenly feeling very cold again. "It was my first time."  
  
Ron tried to imagine what would have happened if he had been the one there for her that day. "What happened after that?"  
  
"He told me he loved me...I didn't say it back."  
  
"What did he do?"  
  
"He avoided me. We never spoke again, until this morning."   
  
Her tears were streaming freely now and Ron could feel them starting to seep through the fabric of his shirt. "What did he say?"  
  
"He's changed. I barely recognized him."  
  
"But he knew you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
He couldn't bring himself to ask her anything else so he just got up, got undressed and slid in next to her under the covers.   
  
As he rubbed away her chills, he kicked himself for never getting up the nerve to say how he felt about her in school. Being with her could have saved them both from so much unnecessary heartache that it made him sick. He couldn't stand the fact that they could have had what they have now back then, when they needed it most. 


	5. Five

The Romanticism of Simplicity  
  
Chapter Five  
  
Around eight o' clock Gemma and Ron were stirred awake by a voice ringing out from the butler's horn at her front door.  
  
"I'll get it," he muttered, falling out of the bed and heading out to the living room.  
  
She couldn't make out what they were saying, but heard Ron open the front door and come back a few seconds later with what sounded like two more people. 'Don't they know it's a Saturday' she thought to herself as she walked around the corner to greet them, even more sore than the day before. They must not have heard her come in because they didn't turn around until she spoke.  
  
"Hullo," she said, stifling a yawn.  
  
Ron turned his attention in her direction and the two men he was chatting with did the same. One of them was an older fellow, wearing full robes and who looked an awful lot like Ron. The other was someone she hadn't seen in years.  
  
"James?" she gasped, scrutinizing his familiar feautres.  
  
The tall, burly man turned around and was suddenly taken aback by the sight of her. He had been expecting to see the girl he had left back at Hogwart's but she was definately not that girl anymore.   
  
"H-hullo Gemma," he stammered, catching his breath. 'God she looks beautiful,' he thought.   
  
As he examined her bare legs and touseled hair (as well as all the nasty little cuts and bruises) he became increasingly aware of his own faded jeans and raggedy cape. He had hoped that all the old feelings he'd had for her would have faded, but if anything, they were stronger than ever. She took a small step closer and the familiar pang in his chest returned wtih a vengence.  
  
She wanted more than anything to reach out and yank him into a tight embrace, but her pride wouldn't let her. "W-what are you doing here?"  
  
"I got a letter from Fudge last night telling me I was needed. I ran into Mr. Weasley here at the ministry and when I told him I'd need to find you, he was kind enough to show me the way."   
  
"Mr. Weasley?" she let her eyes fall back to the other man who had taken off his hat and cloak.  
  
"This is my dad," Ron smiled. "Arthur Weasley."  
  
"Nice to finally meet you," Arthur added.  
  
"You too," Gemma assured him, looking back to James. "I don't understand. Why did you need to find me?"  
  
He caught her eyes and his stomach lurched violently. What a gorgeous mess she was. "Apparantly you're the only one capable of filling me in."  
  
"Filling you in on what?" she questioned.  
  
"On all the strange happenings that may or may not have something to do with Vol..." he sighed loudly. Even though he had been dead for almost five years, it was still difficult to spit out his name. "Voldemort."   
  
She raked her fingers through her hair in an attempt to gather her thoughts. "I haven't seen you in years James."  
  
"That's what I said, but he said it was important that I come to you."  
  
"Look James," she sighed. "I really don't think I should..."  
  
She was cut short by the sound of someone clearing their throat.  
  
"Uh," Arthur chimed in nervously. "There might just be a reason Fudge sent Mr. Wills here to you."  
  
She eyed him suspiciously. "And what reason would that be?"  
  
"Yeah Dad," Ron added. "Do you know something?"  
  
"No," he answered, avoiding eye contact. "I just think that it would be best to follow Fudge's orders."  
  
"He's right Gemma," James nodded.  
  
She shook her head decisively. "I'm sorry, but I just can't."  
  
"Now, now," Arthur chided. "Don't make any hasty decisions. I'm sure whatever the problem is, you both can talk through it."  
  
"I really don't think so."  
  
James's heart sank deep into the pitt of his stomach. "It's fine Arthur, really. I'll just..."  
  
He held up his hands to hush him. "No, now I insist."  
  
"Arthur," Gemma breathed.  
  
"I'm sorry I can't give you a better explanation dear, but I can't stress to you enough how important it is that you two make up."  
  
"What's going on Dad?" Ron asked anxiously.   
  
"All I'm saying is that you should at least try."  
  
No one said anything else for what seemed like hours before James finally made eye contact with Gemma.  
  
"What do you say?"  
  
She couldn't believe what was happening. He had been her best friend when she was younger. When life seemed at it's worst, he had been the reason she kept going. She had needed him desperately, especially during seventh year when Voldemort was at his peak, and one day she went to meet him and he was gone. No note, no message, no nothing. He was just gone and she hadn't heard from him since. How could she possibly get passed the hurt he'd caused her so many years ago when the wounds were still so fresh? How could she willingly allow this man back into her life?  
  
"Gemma," James continued.  
  
"I'm sorry," she exhaled. "I just don't know."  
  
She turned around and started off towards the bedroom and the three of them watched, unsure of what to do.  
  
"You guys should probably go up to may flat," Ron suggested. "I'll check on her."  
  
They both agreed.  
  
"See you up there son," Arthur grinned grievously.  
  
In the bedroom, Gemma was pulling on a fresh pair of jeans and fighting a losing battle against the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.   
  
"Going somewhere?" he asked, watching her pull a jumper down over his old shirt hurriedly.  
  
"I can't be here right now," she cried. "Not while he's here."  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
She bent down slowly to tie her boots, grabbing her wand from the nightstand on her way up. "Dunno."  
  
"When will you be back?"  
  
"Dunno."  
  
"I can't promise they'll be gone by the time you get back."  
  
"It doesn't matter. I just need some time to myself. To think things through."  
  
He watched as she hooked her cape around her neck and tied up her long hair in a loose knot.  
  
"C'mere," he said, holding his arms open.  
  
She slipped into them without any argument. "Why is this happening?" she questioned. "Why now? Why after all these years does he have to show up at my doorstep? Why couldn't he just stay gone?"  
  
He squeezed her hard, wishing he could ease her mind. Something was going on and whatever it was it was definately big. 


	6. Six

The Romanticism of Simplicity  
  
Chapter Six  
  
On a whim, Gemma decided to try Hogsmeade. She hadn't been in what seemed like forever and even if there wasn't much to look at she knew she'd be able to at least buy a coffe at Madame Puddifoot's and sit for a while. Once she got there, visiting all her old hangouts did seem to help relieve some tension. There were so many things to do and to see, all of which hadn't changed a bit since the last time she had visited. She spent a good four hours walking through the old shops and boutiques and even took a trip to the Shrieking Shack before deciding she had cooled off enough to head back home.   
  
Her flat was empty when she got back and for a moment she allowed herself to relax. That relief quickly dissappeared though when her door swung open and Ron came bounding in.  
  
"You're back," he smiled, giving her a welcome home kiss on the lips. "Come on, there's some people here I want you to meet."  
  
"Who is it?" she asked as he lead her upstairs to his flat.  
  
As they got closer, she could hear them all laughing and talking very loudly. 'Probably telling jokes' she told herself and indeed they were. When they stepped inside, she took in a roomful of red hair and freckles and couldn't help but laugh. She spotted Harry and Hermione on the couch talking with a very pretty girl who, by the way she was staring dreamily at him, had a crush on Harry.  
  
"Everyone," Ron began, placing his hand on the small of her back. "This is Gemma."  
  
They all looked over at them and greeted her warmly with 'hullo's' and 'nice to meet you's' and even a whistle of approval.  
  
"Gemma," he continued. "This is my family."  
  
"Hullo," she smiled, blushing deeply.  
  
A lovely, plump woman came out of the kitchen and put her arm around her. "I'm Molly and you know Arthur." Gemma nodded and followed her hand as she pointed out each auburn head. "This is Fred and George, over there's Bill and next to him is Charlie. That's Ginny over there with Harry and Hermione and this is Percy."  
  
Just then the door opened again and James and a very bruised Malfoy and Kenneda stepped in.  
  
"We're back," Malfoy announced. "And we brought the beer."  
  
"Woo hoo," Fred sounded, following him into the dinning room.  
  
James caught Gemma's gaze and had to swallow hard to calm his pounding heart. Why had he come back? She obviously hated him.   
  
Ron, who noticed James's pained expression, nudged Gemma's side.  
  
"What?" she asked, looking up from her conversation with Charlie.  
  
"Go talk to him."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Hear him out."  
  
She glanced back over at James who was paying absolutely no attention whatsoever to Fred and George. He looked as though he were about to be sick with grief.  
  
"No Ron."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I don't want to hear his excuses."  
  
"They're not excuses Gemma, they're explanations."  
  
She eyed him suspiciously. "How would you know?"  
  
"I asked him about it while you were gone."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And I definately think you should have a listen at what he has to say." She didn't reply so he continued. "Go on. What's ten minutes?"  
  
She knew she'd probably regret it but she agreed. "This better be good," she warned him as she started towards the corner where James was standing.  
  
James saw her coming and mustered up as much courage as he could for what was about to happen.  
  
"We need to talk," she exclaimed.  
  
"I know."  
  
He followed her out to Ron's balcony where she was sure they could be alone.  
  
"Gemma.." he began.  
  
She put up her hands to stop him. "Before you go into a long, drawn out explanation I just want you to know that I'm not interested in apologies. What's done is done and nothing you can say can take it back."  
  
"I'm not here to feed you some ridiculus story Gemma."  
  
"Good, because all I want is the truth."  
  
He opened his mouth to speak but he realized that he didn't have a clue what to say.   
  
"Well?" she continued, watching him lean over the railing and peer out over the quiet steet.  
  
"I just...I dunno where to start," he sighed.  
  
"How about the beginning," she suggested, crossing her arms loosely over her chest. "How about the day you left?"  
  
He sighed deeply. "I had to leave. You know that."  
  
"Without even saying goodbye?"  
  
"There was no time for that. I was gone within minutes of receiving the letter from my father."  
  
"We were best friends James. You're suppose to make time."  
  
"I tried. Believe me, I tried, but I barely even had time to throw my things together before being pulled out of the school," he stated, turning around to face her.  
  
"What about afterwards?" she questioned. "I mean, I didn't have the vaguest idea where you were for God's sake! Would it have killed you to send me a letter?"  
  
"I sent you a few, but I found out later that my father had intercepted them."  
  
"Well what about the day you went back to Hogwart's? Why didn't you look for me?"  
  
"How did you even know I came back?"  
  
"Lavender and Parvati saw you James. What, did you think you were invisible or something?"  
  
"Gemma,"  
  
"Did it ever occur to you that I might be the slightest bit worried!? Did you ever once stop and ask yourself how I might be feeling!? Did you even care!?"  
  
"Of course I cared!" he spat. "You were everything to me!"  
  
"Then why didn't you try harder!?" she paused to choke back unruly tears. "I needed you James!"  
  
If there had been anything left of his heart, it crumbled to peices at those words.  
  
"Don't say that," he mumbled, looking back out over the balcony.  
  
"I needed you and you just left! The least you could have done was said hullo the day you came back."  
  
"I came looking for you that night," he started.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I asked around in case anyone had seen you."  
  
"And had they?"  
  
He shook his head. "I was just about to give up when I remembered that spot we found by the lake."  
  
She thought back to the hidden clearing they had discovered their fifth year and to all the long talks they had had under the stars. That's when it hit her. "Oh my god..."  
  
"You were with someone."  
  
She collapsed on the railing for support.  
  
"It tore me apart Gemma...seeing you with Justin."  
  
"Oh my God..." she moaned, grabbing her stomach.  
  
"I went back home that same night. There's no way I would have been able to stand seeing you two together those last few weeks."  
  
"B-but, but...why didn't you wait!? Why didn't you say something!?" There were tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. "I mean, that whole reason that happened was because you were gone."  
  
He caught her eyes. "What?"  
  
"I was lonely James! I needed to be close to someone and-and Justin..."  
  
"What are you saying?"  
  
"I'm saying...I'm saying that I wanted you James and you weren't there."  
  
"I loved you Gemma!" he cried. "I was going to tell you..."  
  
She stumbled back a step. "You loved me!?'  
  
"I was finally going to tell you how I felt, but seeing you with him made me realize that there was just no way we could ever be anything more than friends."  
  
"B-but we k-kissed. That day in the library. W-why didn't you tell me then?"  
  
"Because I couldn't read you. I thought if we kissed I'd be able to tell if you liked me, but I just couldn't."  
  
"James," she breathed. "Why now?"  
  
"I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped loving you and I couldn't keep it to myself any longer. I had to know if there was a chance."  
  
"No," she shook. "No James. I'm with Ron."  
  
"I know, but that doesn't change how I feel."  
  
"I won't leave him."  
  
"I'm not asking you to."  
  
"Then what exactly are you asking?"  
  
"Look, I know you're in love with eachother and I respect that. I just had to get this out."  
  
"We're happy James."  
  
"I know," he started to say.  
  
"You lost your chance a long time ago."  
  
The reality of it all struck him like a ton of bricks. "If you weren't with him...do you think...would I have chance?"  
  
She nodded, wiping a few tears away. "I think so."  
  
He forced a small grin. "I'll be kicking myself for the rest of my life over this."  
  
"If you had just told me then...then things might be different. You're too late. I'm sorry."  
  
"I'll be better for knowing," he assured her.  
  
Neither of them said anything for quite some time. They just stood staring at their feet, wishing the other would do something.  
  
"Well," James finally said. "We should probably get back in there."  
  
"Yeah," Gemma agreed.   
  
Before he got through the door she took his hand.   
  
"I know it's probably alot to ask, but...friends?"  
  
How could he refuse the offer?   
  
"Friends," he smiled.  
  
The rest of the night went smoothly. Gemma got to know all of Ron's family and, amazingly enough, liked each one of them. How could anyone not like a big, gawfawing mass of red hair?   
  
Around ten thrity, they all bid goodnight and Ron and Gemma were left alone.   
  
"What did you think?" he asked her, pushing one of the chairs into the table.  
  
"I think their magnificent," she smiled. "Really great."  
  
"Good."  
  
"What do you think they thought of me?"  
  
"They loved you. Especially my mom," he stated.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Really."  
  
"Good."  
  
They straightened up a bit more before she turned to look at him.  
  
"What?" he grinned.  
  
She took a few steps closer. "Nothing."  
  
He slid his hands around to her back. "I know that look."  
  
She grinned, brushing her lips lightly against his.   
  
"Are you up for it?" he asked, kissing the dark bruise on her right cheek.  
  
"Are you?" she contorted, giving his bottom lip a playful little nip.  
  
He nodded and followed as she lead the way to his bedroom, slipping off her jumper and letting it fall to the floor.  
  
"C'mere," she whispered, pulling him tight.   
  
As her tongue explored his mouth, he undid the button on her jeans and inched them down, letting his hands linger on her rear.  
  
After getting him out of his clothes, she let him lay her down and climb on top.  
  
"Ouch!" she gasped, grabbing her side.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked, looking down to examine the wound.  
  
"Nothing. Just sore."  
  
"Should we stop?"  
  
She shook her head, taking a deep breath. "No. I'll be fine."  
  
He hesitated, but he was too far gone to stop anyway.   
  
"Tell me if It hurts," he ordered, resting his arms on either side of her and touching her face gently. 


	7. Seven

The Romanticism of Simplicity  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
Sunday morning came and went without a hitch, allowing Ron and Gemma the entire afternoon to themselves. Harry had gone to an early practice and Hermione had accompanied him. "Who knows," she had whispered to Gemma on her way out. "Maybe I'll meet someone."  
  
Around six, everyone was back at Harry's flat relaxing with some leftover butter beer when another owl came tapping at the window. 'Please let it be for him' Gemma pleaded in her mind. 'Please, please, please'. But her prayers were to no avail. Harry handed her a yellow envelope with violet ink and a ministry seal.  
  
"Not again," Ron moaned, peering over her shoulder as she broke it open and began to read.  
  
Miss Herrin,  
  
Come immediately to The Three Broomsticks. I trust you know where it is. A few fellow aurors will be awaiting your arrival. Come with your wand at the ready.  
  
Yours Sincerely,  
  
Cornelius Fudge  
  
The Minister of Magic  
  
"Well," she sighed, rising to her feet. "I'm off to save the day."  
  
"Just come home in one peice all right?" Harry winked.  
  
"I'll do my best," she laughed.  
  
"Send for us if things get out of hand," Hermione commanded. "Fudge seems to have forgottent that we're both aurors as well."  
  
Ron followed her down to her flat and made sure she had what she needed.  
  
"Don't worry," she comforted him. "Nothing's going to happen."  
  
"I can't help it," he frowned.  
  
"Try to think about something else while I'm gone. Go hang out with Harry or go dancing or something."  
  
He laughed at the thought of himself at a night club. "I think I'll wait right here thank you."  
  
She shrugged. "Suit yourself."  
  
"What can I say? I'm a worrier."  
  
"Oh c'mere you big softy," Gemma grinned, taking hold of his shirt and drawing him to her. "I'll be home before you even get up for work."  
  
"You better be."  
  
She kissed him as tenderly and reassuringly as she could, intending to relieve his fear, but as he slid his arms around her shoulders, it was she who became enveloped with a sense of peace. She breathed him in deeply, letting his warmth course through her veins, into her heart, until she could have sworn he'd become a part of her.   
  
"You better go now, or I won't be able to let you leave," he groaned, keeping their foreheads together.  
  
She nodded slightly and kissed him once more.   
  
"I love you," he said.  
  
"I know," she smirked, stepping back. "I love you too."  
  
With a quick, loud "pop" she was gone and a few seconds later had apparated into The Three Broomsticks, right in front of the counter. This was hardly a danger zone though, with cooky old witches and wizards lounging at every table and trickling in one by one from the doorway. She listened for any sound of fighting, but heard nothing, not even a cross word.   
  
"Lost?" a slightly hoarse voice sounded from behind her.  
  
She turned quickly to meet the eyes of Remus Lupin sitting on one of the stools at the counter, looking his same old, shabby self.  
  
"Professor Lupin!" she scrame excitiedly. "How are you?"  
  
"At the moment...good."  
  
"I wish I had more time to catch up, but I'm supposed to be meeting some people here." She glanced around the room again, thinking that Fudge might have been mistaken. 'I'm going to love rubbing this in his face' she thought. "You haven't by any chance seen James Wills in here today have you?"  
  
He got up, throwing a few knuts on the counter. "Actually I have. I was sent to pick you up," he explained, ushering her towards the door.  
  
She wasn't sure she was hearing him correctly. "You were sent to pick me up? By who?"  
  
"Fudge. The others are already there."  
  
"Wait a second. I was told to come with my wand "at the ready"," she quoted, doing her best Fudge impression. "What the hell was that all about?"  
  
"He always has been keen on over exagerating things," he sighed, keeping close to her side as they made their way through the tiny streets of Hogsmeade. "Probably thought he was throwing you off the track."  
  
"So then what is going on?"  
  
"A meeting."  
  
"A meeting?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"For what?" she asked, a bit annoyed by the short notice.  
  
"To discuss the blokes that have been prancing up and down London blowing things up," he answered.  
  
"Where's this meeting at?"  
  
"Hogwart's."  
  
They reached the old crossroads sign that informed them that the large castle to their left was none other than the legendary Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.   
  
"Why Hogwart's?"  
  
"Second safest place on earth," he declared matter-of-factly, placing a hand on her back and continuing up the hill.  
  
Once inside, she trailed behind, giggling to herself at all the old memories that came peeking out from around corners. It was almost as if the walls could talk, whispering faintly in her ear of dropped ink wells and stained shirts, of secret crushes and juicy gossip. Long forgotten sentiments cascaded down from the tall, cathedral ceiling, soaking her to her very core in many happy returns and doleful farewells.   
  
"This is it," Lupin said, ripping her from her reflections. "They're all in here."  
  
He opened the doors to the Great Hall and she stepped inside, scrutinizing the scene. The four long tables had been replaced by a single, round one and seated around it were fifteen witches and wizards, not including Dumbledore, who had stood up to greet her.  
  
"Miss. Herrin," he smiled, winking his misty blue eyes.  
  
"Hello Professor Dumbledore," she beamed.  
  
He turned his attention to Lupin, who had already joined the others at the table. "Thank you Remus."  
  
"No problem Professor."  
  
Dumbledore showed her to her seat and she let her eyes wander around the table. To her left was Alastor Moody, Nymphadora "Tonks" Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Elphias Doge, Dedalus Diggle, Emmeline Vance, Sturgis Podmore and Hestia Jones. 'Oh my god' she bellowed in her mind. 'It's the Order of the Pheonix'. On her right was Severus Snape (not her most favorite person in the world), Minerva McGonagall, Arthur and Molly Weasley (Arthur waved feverishly at her), Mundungus Fletcher, Sirius Black and last but not least...  
  
"Harry? When did you get here?"  
  
"I got another letter right after you left," he clarified.  
  
Not that she cared, but "Where's James?" she asked, scanning the group.  
  
"Kindly running an errand for me," Dumbledore told her, taking his own seat.  
  
She suddenly felt like every eye in the room was on her. "What's going on?"  
  
"We've just been discussing the men you had the pleasure of battling two nights ago."  
  
"Okay..."  
  
"They are a powerful group of wizards, Gemma. A group that is growing rapidly even as we speak."  
  
"Who are they?"  
  
"They are what's left of Voldemort's following."  
  
No one was saying anything so she figured she was suppose to do all of the talking. "What's our plan?"  
  
"I am grieved to say that we have few options. But they are options just the same and we intend to follow through with them to the best of our ability."  
  
A few of them uttered agreements.  
  
"So what's the procedure?"  
  
"I am sure, Miss Herrin, that you are well aware that there are familiar faces among their crowd."  
  
She nodded, thinking of Ty.  
  
"Then you must also know that what has to be done will not be an effortless undertaking."  
  
She nodded again.  
  
"Simply put, it is us or them."  
  
"So what's the plan?" she repeated, feeling anxious and wishing everyone would stop staring.  
  
He hesitated, but continued with unwavering certainty. "We have a service to ask of you. A service that is both alarming and admirable."  
  
She caught Harry out of the corner of her eye, fidgeting nervously and looking as though he was about to burst any second.  
  
"I'm listening," she spoke.  
  
"It was brought to our attention that one of the young men in their group is none other than Ty Morrow."  
  
Her heart leapt into her throat. "Yes..."  
  
"We are also aware of the relationship the two of you once shared."  
  
'Oh God!' she bellowed in her mind, feeling the heat rise to her ears. 'Please let me die! Right here, right now!'  
  
"If you are willing, we are respectively asking you to consider using this to gain access into their assembly."  
  
"I-I..." she studdered.  
  
Dumbledore held up his long hand. "We are merely asking you to consider it. Without your consent this admonition will go no further."  
  
Her face was burning with red hot mortification. "I d-don't understand. You want me to..." the right words didn't seem to want to present themselves. "To...to pursue him?" She hoped that didn't sound as stupid as she thought it did.  
  
"What do you say Gemma?" Lupin chimed in. "Are you up for it?"  
  
"You d-don't understand how, how," she struggled to find the right explanation. "You just don't understand."  
  
"You're too good at what you do to let a few bad memories get in the way of what needs done," Moody added.  
  
"This is more than that," she asserted, sounding a little more flustered than she would have liked. "I c-can't..."  
  
"You can do anything you set your mind to!" he pledged. "This little git won't even know what hit him!"  
  
"You don't know what you're asking me to do!"  
  
"We're asking you to smash these bastards into dust once and for all!"  
  
Gemma got up from her chair, turning her back to them and raking both hands through her hair desparingly. How could they ask her to go running into the arms of someone she had fought aimlessly for nearly five years to forget? How could she possibly put herself thorugh that? What if something went wrong? What if he found out and threw Avada Kedavra at her while she was sleeping or something? What if she accidently fell in love with him and became one of them? What if she had to sleep with him again? What if Ron couldn't forgive her? What if...  
  
"Gemma," Dumbledore began, reeling her back in. "I know that it is alot to ask of one person, but it is extremely important that you consider it."  
  
"We'd make sure you were safe," Tonks added, doing her best to sound convincing.  
  
"Tonks is right Gemma," Sirius agreed. "We'd be just around the corner the entire time."  
  
"It's not that," she muttered, turning back around. "I just...I..."  
  
"We wouldn't have asked you if we didn't know for sure that it could be done," Lupin stated, standing up next to her.   
  
She looked up into his surprisingly bright, brown eyes and couldn't help but feel herself ease-up slightly. "This is the only option isn't it?"  
  
They all regarded eachother and nodded simultaneously.   
  
She let out an exasperated breath. "Then...then who am I to say no?"  
  
"Attagirl!" Arthur whooped.  
  
"Tell me it'll all work," she begged Harry as they all talked amongst themselves.  
  
He looked very somber indeed. "I can't."  
  
"Tell me anyway."  
  
Harry scooped her up and held her close. "It'll all work out."  
  
"That's crazy!" Ron exclaimed when Gemma and Harry had indulged him and Hermione in the goings on of the meeting.   
  
"It's necessary," she said.  
  
"You're telling me that eighteen of the world's greatest witches and wizards couldn't come up with a better solution to this problem than to send you straight into the middle of it!? You could be killed Gemma!"  
  
"If something goes awry they'll pull me out before they can ruffle a single hair on my head."  
  
"What if they can't get to you in time? What then? Or what if there's too many of them to fight off, huh?"  
  
She took his hands and looked him square in the face. "I need you to be positive Ron. If not for you then for me. Tell me you trust me. Tell me you believe in me. Tell me anything just, please, be positive!"  
  
"Gemma I-I just, I..." words couldn't express what she meant to him. If he were to ever lose her...  
  
She scooted closer, cupping his face. "I know Ron."  
  
"I can't live without you Gemma."  
  
"You won't have to."  
  
Harry and Hermione escorted themelves out, sensing their need to be alone.   
  
"Just promise me something," Ron continued.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"When this is all said and done, when everything gets back to normal..."  
  
"Um huh."  
  
He put a finger under her chin and lifted her eyes to his. "I want you to marry me Gemma. Promise me you'll marry me."  
  
She stared, unbelieving, at the man in front of her. "W-what?"  
  
"You're everything to me. Promise me we'll come out of this together. Promise me you'll be my wife."  
  
Hot tears were stinging the corners of her eyes. "Of course I'll marry you Ron."  
  
"You, you will?" he asked, stunned.  
  
"Yes," she nodded, kissing him passionately. "I love you."  
  
"I-I..." he was speechless.  
  
"I know Ron," she smiled. 


	8. Eight

The Romanticism of Simplicity  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
Every day the following week, Gemma and Harry attended meetings to discuss just how she was going to go about this. By Friday, the plan had been drawn up and the only thing left to do was to wait for an opening, which finally came late Saturday night.  
  
"Are you ready?" Harry asked as they made their way through the fog to The Three Broomsticks.  
  
"Ready as I'll ever be."  
  
Ron's grip tightened on her hand but he didn't speak.  
  
"We're all going to be close by," Hermione said.  
  
Moody nodded. "There's no need to worry."  
  
"That's what you think," she huffed, stopping when they reached the corner.   
  
"Got everything?"  
  
She patted her back pocket, checking for her wand. "I'm set."  
  
Harry peered around the corner at the entrance . "Coast is clear."  
  
Ron bent to place a small kiss on her cheek and in a moment of weakness, she threw herself at him, squeezing him with all her might.  
  
"So much for being brave," he whispered, laughing despite his own painstaking fear.  
  
"I can't help it."  
  
Harry turned back around. "You better go now Gemma. I don't know how long it'll be clear."  
  
She pulled back and nodded, allowing herself two, deep breaths. "Right."  
  
They all wished her luck and with one last check for her wand and a reassuring smile from Ron, she entered the musty pub. As always, it was filled to the brim with every type of character imagineable, all of whom, stared unyieldingly at her from the moment her feet scraped the rotting wood floor. She pretended not to notice while she scanned their crooked faces for Ty. It didn't take long to spot him, seeing as how he was the only decent looking one amongst the lot. He was hunched over the bar, sipping a tall mug of some sort of smoky brew, conforming in that he was keeping to himself. As she sauntered towards him, she couldn't help but wonder if he was trying to look that mysterious or if it was more of a natural occurence. When he didn't budge from his seat, she figured he must not have noticed her come in and cautiously took the stool to his left.  
  
"Come back for more?" he smirked, giving her a bit of a shock.  
  
She shrugged it off and urged herself to begin what she had come to do. "I need to talk to you," her voice was surprisingly stern.  
  
"You're lucky I don't blow you're fucking head off," he replied, downing the last of his drink.  
  
"I thought you wanted to keep me around," she retorted, letting a hint of sensuality roll off her tongue.  
  
"Whores are a dime a dozen."  
  
Gemma choked down a mix of terror and anger and scooted closer. "Oh come on. A nice long fuck wouldn't be so bad would it?"  
  
He turned his head in her direction, not letting his shock at her forwardness show. "What is this?"  
  
Her voice was now low and sentilating, having mastered her nerves. "One night Ty. That's all I want."  
  
"You must think I'm a god damn idiot."  
  
She sat up a little straighter, ignoring his comment and caught the bartender's attention. "I'll have what he's having."  
  
Ty laughed. "Get lost Gemma."  
  
Knowing she had his full attention, she unclasped her cloak, letting it slip from her bare shoulders, revealing a low cut, scarlet silk top. If he refused, she could rest assured that one of the other wizards crammed into the place would be more than willing to satisfy her needs. She could feel them all on her, gawking shamelessly.  
  
Ty, who had sized her up out of the corner of his eye, was fighting the urge to rip the thing right off of her right then and there by staring determinedly into his mug.   
  
"It's been a long time Ty," she declared, coming closer yet. "Let's catch up."  
  
Her scent was intoxicating. "What's the catch?"  
  
She ran her fingers down his neck and over the top buttons of his shirt (he'd definately be going home with somebody tonight). "Pleasure first, business later."  
  
There was soemthing funny about her coming to him like this, but as soon as her hand found his knee, it became very easy to push those thoughts aside. He was feverish with lust and wanted nothing more than to swallow her whole.  
  
The room was small and nothing more than a lumpy bed and a wobbly chair. 'The bair essentials' she thought, taking a second to scan the area. If she was going to get through this night she'd have to abandon her scruples.  
  
Wanting to get it over with as soon as possible, Gemma began tearing at his clothes, passing it off as desire. She had just about gotten his belt loose when he suddenly seized her firmly by the throat and shoved her hard against the wall.  
  
"If you pull anything, anything at all," he warned. "You'll be dead before you hit the ground."  
  
She surprised herself by grinning at him. "Get over yourself."   
  
Her bravery was laughable. "I'd have never thought you for a slut."  
  
She hoped he couldn't feel her heart pounding madly in her chest as she pressed herself against him. "I'd have never thought you for someone who'd go for a slut."  
  
"I guess we've both changed then haven't we?"   
  
Meanwhile, keeping in the shadows outside, Moody, Harry and Hermione were trying to keep Ron calm.   
  
"Everything's going to be fine Ron," Hermione assured him. "We just have to be patient."  
  
"Stand still will you!?" Moody barked. "You're distracting me!"  
  
"If it were you're girlfriend in there with that bloke you'd be just as nervous as I am!" Ron protested, fumbling with his wand.  
  
He and Gemma hadn't yet told anyone of their plans of marriage. No one knew that the reason he was going out of his mind was that his future wife was inside, being done God knows what to.  
  
Ty had been so cold and distant when Gemma had seen him outside of The Pheonix Feather that she was sure he wouldn't have a tender bone left in his body. There was nothing left of the man she remembered, not even the tiny scar he had had above his right eye and beacause of all this, she had prepared herself for a rough night. He pinned her tightly to the bed, holding her hands in place above her head with one of his own and using the other to explore her gleaming body. His kisses were hard and hungry, even painful at times. Unable to stop herself, she whinced.  
  
"What's the matter," he moaned. "I thought you'd want it rough."  
  
She didn't answer.  
  
That's when it hit him. This is Gemma, the girl he had fallen in love with that night by the lake. The girl he had spent his entire life comparing every other woman to. The girl he had been pretending to hate for almost five years. Right here, in his arms, was the one that got away.  
  
"Ty?" she asked, unnerved by the way he was scrutinizing her. All of a sudden he looked different. Softened.  
  
"This is," he began.  
  
"This is what?" she groaned, wiggling her arms free and cupping his face.  
  
"This is..." he wasn't sure what it was he wanted to say.  
  
"Kiss me Ty."  
  
He did just that, only this time, it was such a tender kiss that it nearly took her breath away. 'Oh no,' she thought. 'Oh no, oh no, oh no'. The roughness she could take, but this? This was a completely different story. No way could she handle this. He stopped man-handling her and started trying to make up for the damage he had done. He traced his lips down her neck and chest, caressing her breasts with his tongue and then moving on to her thighs, savoring the sweet taste of her skin. She arched her back isntinctively, and grabbed his shoulders to guide him back up to her face. 'Don't let him linger,' she told herself. 'Get it over with.'   
  
"Now," she urged him, sliding into place.  
  
Ty, who realized he couldn't wait any longer either, spread her legs with his knee, finding her hands again so that he would have something to hold on to. He entered her slowly, pressing his mouth to hers to smother her cry. They found a rhythm quickly and within seconds, he felt as though they were the only two people in the world. He'd only experienced that feeling once before and it had been with this same, sweet woman. She was taking him back to that warm night. He pictured the still water, the cool grass and the brilliant stars. She had been crying, said she was lonely. He was too. She knew a spot where no one would be able to find them. The only other person who had been there was James and he was gone. They brought a blanket and he held her for a long time, until most of the tears had subsided. He was just about to let her go when he realized she wasn't ready yet. He'd asked her if there was anything else he could do and she nodded and kissed him. Afterwards, she apologized and moved away, but he wanted her close, so he kissed her again. Soft at first, then deeply. The next thing he knew, he was undressing her and she him.  
  
It had been so long since he had allowed that memory to materialize before his eyes and it was incredible how vivid it was. The salty taste of tears, her tight grip on his arms, the warm summer breeze...it was the single most thrilling experience of his life. He hadn't know how much he cared for her until then and all he'd wanted was for her to love him back. Maybe she hadn't believed him when he'd told her later on that week, or maybe she was afraid to say it back. Whatever the reason, it didn't matter now. All that mattered was the she was here now, right back in his arms where she belonged. It felt good...it felt safe. The only problem was that, once again, he was with her for all the wrong reasons. Nothing could come of this. Nothing beyond the tangled sheets at least.  
  
About an hour later, after they had finished, Gemma crawled out of the moist sheets and began searching for all her things.  
  
"What are you doing?" he asked, still in a bit of a daze.  
  
"Going home." She spoke as little as possible, afraid that at any moment she was going to be sick.  
  
He sat up and reached out to pull her back down to him. "Why can't you stay?"  
  
"We're done aren't we?"  
  
"Come on. Stay."  
  
She sat back up, found her bra and clumsily tried to hook it in the back. "What for?"  
  
"No one likes to fuck and run," he grinned.   
  
'Don't blow it', she told herself as she started to put on her shirt. "You got what you wanted."  
  
"Maybe I'm not through with you yet," he suggested, wrapping his arms around her waist and rolling on top of her.  
  
She desperately wanted to grab her things and run, but she knew everything was riding on this night. She had to be careful how and when she pulled away. It was crucial for him to want to see her again.  
  
"Get off me you big git," Gemma ordered, forcing a smile.  
  
"Don't leave," he pleaded, caressing her neck gently.  
  
"I've got better things to do than hang around with you."  
  
"Is that so?"  
  
She gathered her wits and turned him over, stradling his middle. "It was fun Ty, but I really have to go."  
  
He sighed deeply, running his rough hands up her legs and thighs. "Just like that huh?"  
  
"Just like that."  
  
"All right. You can go, but on one condition."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"You have to see me again."  
  
'Thank God'! "When?"  
  
"Tomorrow night."  
  
"So soon?" she laughed.  
  
"Meet me here."  
  
She slid back down to the floor and tried not to seem in too much of a rush as she threw her clothes on. "Tomorrow night it is."  
  
Once she had found her left heel and tucked away her wand, they uttered their goodbyes and she made her way back downstairs through the pub. The frigid night air was an unexpected slap in the face and as she trudged through the fresh layer of crisp snow, she made a mental note to dress a little more sensible the next time.   
  
When Ron spotted her coming down the narrow alley way, she was so absorbed in thought that she didn't hear him call her name.  
  
"Gemma!" he repeated for the third time, but still he got no reply.  
  
He reached out and grabbed her arm to get her attention, but before he could get out a hullo, she had whipped out her wand and thrust it at his face.  
  
"S-sorry," she began, breathing heavily.   
  
"It's okay," he assured her, raking his fingers though his disheveled hair.   
  
"I'm just a little...edgy." The word hardly described her situation.  
  
"How did it go?" Moody asked, appearing at Ron's side.  
  
"Fine."   
  
"Is it gonna work?"  
  
'What a git', Gemma thought to herself, swallowing down all the emotions that were threatening to spew out. 'Doesn't even bother to ask me how I feel'.  
  
"Well?" he chided.  
  
"He wants to see me again tomorrow," she explained, tightening her cloak around her shoulders.  
  
"Does he suspect anything?"  
  
"Probably."  
  
Her mood was extremely irritating. "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"It means he knows I'm an auror and my coming to find him was a fairly suspicious act."  
  
"Did he say anything about it?"  
  
"Not really."  
  
"I want to know everything he said."  
  
She eyed him angrily. "I'll be happy to indulge you tomorrow morning at the meeting."  
  
"What's wrong with right now?"  
  
Harry, Hermione and Ron listened nervously as the argument grew more heated.  
  
"I'm tired, that's what's wrong with right now!"  
  
"That's hardly a valid reason to keep your partners in the dark."  
  
"Well, partner, I'm sorry you feel as though I'm being unfair, but I'm not exactly keen on the situation myself."  
  
"Is that right?" he snapped.  
  
"Yes it is, and seeing as how this entire plan is riding on my shoulders, I'd say I'm entitled to a shower and a little rest before I have to spit out all the details of being trapped under that lunatic for an hour and a half!"  
  
He was so infuriated he was practically fuming. "I'm not going to fight with you Gemma."  
  
"Oh come on!" she sneered. "I'm sure you're just dying to toss one my way right about now."  
  
"I'll see you in the morning."  
  
She watched him turn on his heel, and saw, or heard rather, him dissaperate. She started to do the same, but suddenly felt entirely too weak. It was all she could do to keep her balance.  
  
"Are you all right?" Ron asked, reaching out a hand for her to take.  
  
"I just need to lie down," she exclaimed.  
  
He nodded, catching Harry and Hermione's eyes as he slipped his arms around her.   
  
"We'll see you back home." 


	9. Nine

The Romanticism of Simplicity  
  
Chapter Nine  
  
Gemma collapsed on her bed, stretching out to ease the tension in her gut. Ron examined her carefully, trying to discern whether she'd been injured in any way. The only marks visible though, were tiny, finger print shaped bruises on either side of her neck.  
  
"Anything I can do?" he questioned her, sitting at the foot of the bed.  
  
Hearing the dispairing tone in his voice caused a tight lump to rise up in her throat.  
  
"C'mere," she whispered.  
  
He came closer, letting her guide him down to the bed and lay her body on top of his.  
  
"I'm sorry," she cried.  
  
"It's not your fault."  
  
"You don't deserve this."  
  
Her tears were warm on his neck. "Neither do you."  
  
"I hate this."  
  
Ron squeezed her a little tighter. "Did he hurt you?"  
  
She shook her head. "No."  
  
He breathed a deep sigh of relief. "I love you Gemma."  
  
She raised her tear-soaked face up to his and kissed him softly.   
  
"We'll get through this," he pledged.  
  
"I know."  
  
"We'll probably even be better for it."  
  
She kissed him again. "I hope so."  
  
"In the meantime though, how about a nice hot soak."  
  
Gemma couldn't help but smile at his good humor. "Sounds good."  
  
After the meeting the next morning at Hogwart's, Gemma felt drained. Embarrassment could be so tiring.   
  
"Are you all right dear?" Molly asked her, encircling her tiny waist with one arm.  
  
"Just peachy," she laughed grievously.  
  
"Anything we can do?" Arthur chimed in, examining her dark eyes.  
  
"It's nothing a little rest can't cure," she assured them.  
  
"Well if you need anything, anything at all, don't hesitate. Ron knows how to reach us."  
  
She nodded and gave them both a half-hearted little squeeze.  
  
"Take care."  
  
They waved to Ron and then dissapperated back to the Burrow, leaving Gemma feeling twice as alone as before. She glanced around the room, hooking her cloak and pushing her hair back from her face. The air seemed thick and heavy, hard to breath. 'Relax' she urged herself. 'Relax, relax, relax'. The urge to scream was overwhelming. She needed to hook her hands around something - anything. Something heavy that would crack nicely against the stone wall. The back of her throat burned, threatening to release a deep sob. 'Relax,' she continued, closing her eyes for a moment to ward off the unwelcome brightness of the sun. As she was struggling to slow her pulse, she felt a warm hand cup her shoulder and she snapped around, a bit shocked.  
  
"I didn't mean to scare you," James explained, taking a step back.  
  
She forced her sweaty hands into the pockets of her jeans. "Did you need something?"  
  
"I just wanted to say good luck. I know this must be hard for you."  
  
"You have no idea," she sighed.  
  
He found her eyes. "I think I do."  
  
She realized he was hinting at Ron and it caused her heart to sink deeper into her stomach. "It's not the same James."  
  
"On some levels it's worse," he contorted.   
  
"I don't see how," she exhaled sadly.  
  
He came a bit closer. "He gets to hold you..""  
  
"James..."  
  
"I'd give anything to touch you," he breathed, making a concious effort to keep his distance. If he got too close, he might not be able to resist.  
  
Gemma turned around to hide her face. She didn't want anyone to see her cry. She didn't want them to think she was weak.  
  
"Please don't say those things," she pleaded, studying the misty, white frost on the windows.  
  
He raked his fingers through his already messy hair. "You're right. I'm sorry."  
  
"You should go."  
  
He nodded. "Goodbye Gemma."  
  
She listened to his footsteps echoing on the marble floor until the sound had grown so faint, it ceased.  
  
"Gemma," another voice rang out from behind her.   
  
She wiped her eyes vigorously on her cloak sleeve and turned around to find Ron.  
  
"We should go home," he suggested.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
He reached out and pulled her tight to his chest and she melted against his soft heat.  
  
"I love you," he whispered.  
  
Her throat ceased up, choking her words. All she could do was hang on to him desperately and cry. 


	10. Ten

The Romanticism of Simplicity  
  
Chapter Ten  
  
Night brought with it immeasurable grief and worry. Every twinkle of the stars overhead, every crunch of the glittering powder below, even every fluttering snowflake became harbingers of the misery to come.   
  
As they drew closer to The Three Broomsticks, Gemma could feel the wind pick up, howling painfully as if in an attempt to push them back. She listened intently, trying to discern it's words, but the warnings were distant and dream-like - a reverie not meant to be heard, simply percieved.   
  
"This is as far as we go," Lupin (Moody sat this one out) exclaimed, peering around the same corner as the night before and discovering a disserted street. He turned back around and cupped Gemma's shoulder. "The rest is up to you love."  
  
She nodded, shifting nervously on her feet.   
  
"Ready?" he added.  
  
"I think so," Gemma examined, gripping the cool wood of her wand before withdrawing her hand from her pocket.  
  
Ron took her arm and guided her to him.   
  
"I'll be waiting for you," he whispered, encompasing her waist.  
  
"I don't know if I can do this," she announced, holding on to the collar of his coat and looking up into his eyes.  
  
"We'll all be here."  
  
"I love you."  
  
He reached down and brushed her lips with his. "You know how I feel."  
  
With that, they realeased eachother and she set off towards the dimly lit pub, accepting encouraging smiles from Harry, Hermione and Lupin on her way.  
  
Ty, who was waiting at one of the small tables by the door when she arrived, immediately rose to join her, looping her hand through his and ushering her back outside.  
  
"Where are we going?" Gemma asked, staring hard at his face.  
  
"Somewhere we can be alone."  
  
He didn't appear to be in any hurry which helped to ease her fear that they were being followed.  
  
"The room we were in last night seemed to suit our needs just fine," she asserted.  
  
"But you have to admit, it wasn't exactly five star quality."  
  
Gemma snickered. "I didn't know we were at the five star level in our relationship."  
  
He grinned down at her, admiring her soft features, pink from the cold.   
  
"So where is this place?" she continued, ignoring his friendly gaze and peering up the street. They were just a few feet away from the alley she just came from.  
  
"It's not far."   
  
Harry turned around quickly to face his friends.   
  
"What is it?" Lupin questioned.  
  
"They're coming this way," he stated. "We need to duck out of sight until they pass."  
  
They each maneuvered into the shadow, waiting with bated breath as Gemma and Ty's footsteps grew to a crisp crescendo and then slowly faded into the distance.  
  
"Where do you think they're going?" Hermione asked after casting an invisibility charm on each of them.  
  
"I dunno, but we have to stay close if we're going to keep up," Harry answered, falling into step behind them.  
  
Ron eyed the man hooked at Gemma's side and wasn't surprised to encounter a wave of jealousy. His body ached with pent up fury and the closer he got to him, the harder it became to keep it under control. He watched as the bloody bastard squeezed and kissed her and muttered in her ear. The whole thing made him sick and he promised himself that before it was all said and done, he'd get at least one good blow in.   
  
About ten minutes later, they all wound up at a small, three story building tucked behind a row of shops and Harry, Hermione, Ron and Lupin lingered behind as Gemma and Ty dissappeared inside.  
  
Ron was the first to revoke the invisibility charm and the rest followed suit. His blood was boiling, making him unsuceptible to the fridgid winter air.   
  
"Try not to think about it," Hermione suggested, patting his back soothingly.  
  
He gawked at her furiously. "Are you kidding me? The son of a bitch was all over her Hermione!"  
  
"It could be worse," she proclaimed.  
  
"You're right," he agreed, crossing his arms over his chest. "He could be fucking her. Oh, wait a minute! Wait just one bloody minute! I think he is!"  
  
"Ron, you have got to get a hold of yourself," Remus sighed. "We need you clear headed and on your toes."  
  
"It's not that easy. I can't just pretend that none of this is happening," Ron explained.   
  
Harry had been scanning the windows and watched as one to the right on the middle floor lit up with bright, orange firelight and two smoky shadows came dancing into view.   
  
"There they are," he pointed. "Second window to the right."  
  
"I suppose we better make ourselves comfortable then," Lupin declared, leaning against the trunk of a lone, ominous tree. "There's no way of knowing when she'll be back down."  
  
Inside, Ty was popping the cork out of a bottle of aged rasberry wine and motioning for her to take a seat.  
  
"Where are we?" Gemma questioned, glancing around the small living area and letting her eyes settle on a framed picture on the coffee table.  
  
"My flat," he spoke.  
  
She picked it up and surveyed the group of teenagers, all smiling and waving.   
  
"What year was this?" She called to him, spotting herself beside a robed James.  
  
He handed her a wine goblet and peered over her shoulder at the memory.  
  
"Sixth I think. Brooke and I were still together," he said, aiming with his forefinger at a dark haired girl. "See? She's holding my hand."  
  
"Whatever happened to her?"  
  
"Dunno. Last time I saw her was our last day at Hogwart's."  
  
"She was nice."  
  
Gemma stared a little longer, tarrying on the image of herself and James. She had never noticed the way he looked at her. How he stood just close enough to feel her next to him.   
  
"Anyhow," she breathed, replacing the picture (if she looked at it any longer she'd be fighting off tears) and turning to face him.   
  
He sat down on the overstuffed couch, leaving room for her to fit nicely beside him.  
  
"C'mere," he ordered.  
  
She did as she was told, taking a nice long swig from the crystal glass.  
  
He sat his own down and bent over to slide off her scarf.  
  
"Not wasting anytime I see," she said, allowing him to lay her back and climb on top.  
  
"You're too beautiful to put off," he assured her.  
  
He outlined her chin with soft kisses, gradually finding his way to her lips and pressing into them. She tasted smooth and pure, reminding him of vanilla.  
  
"God I love kissing you," he moaned, relishing her bottom lip.  
  
Gemma took hold of the bottom of his jumper and tugged it over his head, tossing it aside. She started with his jeans, but he pulled away, standing up and lifting her with him.  
  
"What are you doing?" she inquired, following him down a small hallway.  
  
He pushed open a wooden door, exposing a large bedroom.  
  
"I want to do this right," he said, propping her up on the edge of his bed and un-doing the toggles of her cardigan.  
  
After, getting off her top layers and bra, he stood her back up and slid off her jeans, leaving her in only her underwear.  
  
"My turn," she declared, working off the rest of his clothing, as well as her last article, and pressing herself firmly against him.   
  
He thorougly enjoyed the sensation he received from having her supple breasts crammed against his chest and from the heat of her breath on his skin. Everything about her was brilliant, right down to the way her thick hair fell about her naked shoulders. When their eyes met, it sent his head whirling and he had to laugh at the weakness in his knees. Their lips collided again and this time, he made it a point not to let her go. With every brush of her fingertips and every stroke of her tongue she was bringing him to life. She sent electricity coursing through his veins.  
  
"Cold?" he asked, sliding in next to her under the plush comforter.  
  
She nodded, positioning herself underneath and wrapping her arms around his waist.  
  
As he bent to begin the task of warming her up, he brushed a few loose strands of silky hair out of her eyes.   
  
"Tell me what you need," he told her. "I want this to be for you."  
  
She wished she could have told him that what she needed was to be with Ron and not pretending to be smitten with someone she didn't want to be involved with, but instead, she settled for the safe option of telling him where to go.  
  
About two hours later, Gemma crawled out of the bed and started rumaging around for her clothes.  
  
"I'd really rather you stay," he said, helping her on with her cardigan.  
  
"I can't."  
  
"What's stopping you?"  
  
"I have to be somewhere," she glanced down at her watch. "And I'm already late."  
  
He wanted to know what it felt like to wake up next to her. He wanted to spend the entire night with her in his arms.  
  
"I'm sure whatever it is can wait," he presumed, hugging her and kissing the top of her head.  
  
"I'm sorry Ty, but it really can't."  
  
She sat down to tie her boots, but he beat her to the punch, bending down in front of her and hoisting her foot into his lap.  
  
"Thanks," she muttered, a bit taken aback by his courtesy.  
  
"Gemma," he began, grabbing the other foot. "I really want to see you again."  
  
She struggled with getting her tongue to form the right words. "You do?"  
  
"Yeah," he said, handing her her wand. "But not like this. I want to spend time with you. Get to know you."   
  
Exactly the thing she didn't want to hear.  
  
"I-er...well...I-I suppose we could do that."  
  
"I just, I..." he couldn't quite put it into words what he wanted to say. "I guess I missed you."  
  
"You didn't seem to miss me all that much last night," she retorted.  
  
"I hadn't realized it yet."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"So...will you meet me here tomorrow?"  
  
Gemma walked over to the bedroom door and flashed him a smile. "I'll be here at ten."  
  
A big, stupid grin stretched from ear to ear over his face and as soon as she was gone, he couldn't hold in his excitement. 'Maybe this really can work,' he thought to himself. 'Maybe...'  
  
Back down on the street, Gemma ran into her four chaperones, practically frozen to the core.  
  
"Sorry it took so long," was all she could say.   
  
"Are you all right?" Ron asked her.  
  
She shrugged. "He wants to get to know me."  
  
"Get to know you?"   
  
"I'll probably never get out of there tomorrow."  
  
"This is good though," Harry sounded, releasing Hermione whom he had been holding for the past hour. "Now we can take the next step."  
  
"Harry's right," Hermione agreed, a tad dazzled by the sudden lack of warmth. "This entire ordeal may not take as long as we thought."  
  
"Let's discuss it in the morning," Lupin yawned. "My ass could pose as an ice cube."  
  
It was settled at the next meeting. The tips would be sent out to all the wizard papers that Gemma Herrin had been permanently suspended from the Ministry of Magic and stipped of her rights as an auror. They would be told that these severe actions were taken on account of her fraternizing with the enemy and giving out valuable information as to the security of several protected wizards, including the minister of magic, Cornelius Fudge. By noon, everyone, except those involved and Fudge of course, would hear of the accusations made against her and be well on their way to deciding on how they feel about the matter. Later, when Gemma would go to meet Ty, she'd pretend to be completely distraught over the situation, and in a fit of anger, beg him for a chance to join his group of problem makers. 'It would be the perfect way to get back at them' she'd tell him. 'They'll be sorry for what they've done if it's the last thing I do.' The plan, if carried out correctly, was fool-proof.  
  
"Are you scared?" Ron asked Gemma that afternoon at the Burrow. They, along with Harry, Hermione, Lupin, Sirius and Tonks, had decided to bide their time by having a late lunch with Ron's family.  
  
"Don't I look it?" she replied, tucking her knees to her chest.  
  
"It'll be a miracle if we pull this off. We're fooling a lot of people."  
  
"It'll work. We just have to stick with it."  
  
There was along silence between them as they both gathered their wits.   
  
"It's difficult," Ron finally said, studying his hands.  
  
"What is?"  
  
"Giving you up to him like that."  
  
"It's difficult being with him," she breathed.  
  
"There's so much that could go wrong Gemma."  
  
"I know. We just have to trust that it won't."  
  
He peered over at her, eyes heavy with burden, and reached out to grasp her hand. She tumbled over into his arms and melted against his body.  
  
"As long as we have eachother nothing else matters," she proclaimed.  
  
Ron squeezed her tighter. "I love you so much it hurts."  
  
Finally, around five o' clock, owls were sent to the Burrow with every wizard paper in London.   
  
"Look at this," Harry said, unrolling the Daily Prophet and examining the front page. "'Traitor Discovered At The Ministry'," he read, handing it to Gemma.  
  
Her insides wrenched up into a tight knot as she gripped the pages and scrutinized a picture of herself with Fudge. It had been taken the day she became an auror.   
  
"Look at this one," Fred gushed. "'Witch Accused of Tipping Off Possible Death Eaters'."  
  
"Hey this one mentions us!" Ginny exclaimed, walking over to sit in the old lounger beside the couch that Ron and Gemma were occupying.  
  
"What does it say?" Ron pondered, scooting to edge of the cushion to get a better look.  
  
"There's a picture of you and Gemma and underneath it reads 'Weasley's Linked To The Enemy'."  
  
"Oh my God," Gemma muttered, thinking she might be sick.  
  
Ginny continued. "'Gemma Herrin, an auror for the Ministry of Magic, was relieved of her duties today after being accused of handing over information regarding the protection and safety of several prominent wizards to the mysterious group that has been terrorizing London for the past three months. Our sources were tipped that she has been seeing none other than Ronald Weasley, the youngest boy of the Weasley family who is known for his support of Harry Potter. "They're very happy together," says Draco Malfoy, a friend of the couple. "Been together for quite some time now." Could this mean that we can no longer trust one of our most respected wizarding families'?"  
  
"That's crazy!" Ron cried, snatching up the paper.  
  
"Trust me," Hermione said. "They'll think of worse things to say before it's said and done. Remember Rita Skeeter? The old bag was relentless."  
  
"This one talks about you and Harry," George informed them, sitting on the arm of the couch next to Gemma. "Questions his loyalty."  
  
She stood up, desperate for fresh air, and stumbled outside, collapsing on the wood railing for support. It hadn't even entered her mind that her friends would be dragged into it. Because of her, their reputations were being put on the line. She sucked in a deep breath, the cold stinging her lungs and choked on frustrated tears. A part of her wished the whole thing would blow up in her face just so it would be over, but the other part, the sensible part, wanted to see it through. Afterall, everyone was relying on her.  
  
"All right out here?" Harry's voice rang out from the door way.  
  
"Sorry about the articles," Gemma said, turning around to face him.   
  
"It's not the first time I've had my loyalt questioned," he shrugged. "And it probably won't be the last."  
  
"It hadn't even occured to me that they'd bring you all into it."  
  
"They'll say anything to keep people reading."  
  
There was a short silence between them in which Gemma tried to sort out her feelings.  
  
"Listen," she finally said. "Tell everyone I said bye and not to worry okay?"  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"Home. I need to be by myself for a while."  
  
He watched her step off the porch. "Be careful."  
  
She apparated into her living room and stood for a long time just going over everything in her head. What would Ty say when he found out about Ron? Did he already know? What would she tell him? How in the name of Merlin was she going to convince him that she wanted to be a part of his group? Was he even still a part of the group? The attacks were becoming more frequent, but there was no way to know if he had been involved in any of them except that one. How did he even get mixed up with those people to begin with? It was all so overwhelming. In fact, it was too overwhelming. After a few moments of the tedious battling that was taking place in her head, Gemma couldn't take it anymore. She had to get it all over with. So, she checked for her wand and with one last scan of her flat, dissapparated, winding up at Ty's door.   
  
"Ty!" She bellowed, rapping on his door. "Ty, it's me! Are you home? We need to talk!"  
  
There was a loud click and the sound of the door handle turning.  
  
"Gemma?" Ty asked, giving her room to step inside. "What are you doing here?"  
  
She spotted the Daily Prophet scattered across the coffee table. "Did you hear?"  
  
He nodded solemnly.   
  
Suddenly she switched into 'go' mode and the words just came spilling out. Uncalculated and raw.  
  
"The fucking bastards took away my liscence!" (A/N: I'm not sure what the requirements are for being an auror.)  
  
"I know. I'm sorry."  
  
"How could they do this to me!? After everything I've been through..."  
  
"They had reason Gemma."  
  
"They had nothing! There's not a shred of evidence to support their decision!"  
  
"What about the past couple of nights?"  
  
She met his eyes. "What about them?"  
  
"Well I don't exactly have the best record."  
  
"You had nothing to do with it! You never even came up!"  
  
He looked relieved. "Then this isn't because of me?"  
  
"No. This happened because they're getting paranoid. Screwing me over was just a way to ease some tension."  
  
"So...they don't know about us?"  
  
Gemma took a few steps closer to him. "No. And that's exactly why I came here."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I want you to help me."  
  
"Help you with what?"  
  
"I'm not going to sit back and let them get away with this!"  
  
He eyed her nervously. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"I want to be a part of that group."  
  
His heart lept into his throat. "What group?"  
  
"Your group Ty. The ones you were with that night in Romania."  
  
"Gemma..."  
  
"Think about it," she began. "What better way to get back at them than to become a member of the problem?"  
  
Ty turned away from her, unable to believe what he was hearing. "You don't know what you're saying."  
  
"I know EXACTLY what I'm saying!"  
  
"You're upset and..."  
  
"Of course I'm upset! I've lost everything Ty! EVERYTHING!"  
  
"What about Ron?"  
  
The question hit her hard. "Ron?"  
  
"Have you lost him as well?"   
  
He captured her eyes again and for a split second she could have sworn she saw a hint of remorse.  
  
"I lost him a long time ago," she retorted.  
  
"From what I hear, you two are madly in love."  
  
"Whatever we had...it's over. None of it matters anymore."  
  
He searched her face for a trace of the truth. "How do I know you're not lying?"   
  
"Look," she sighed, changing the subject. "I came here because I thought there was something between us. But if you're not going to help me, then I'll go to someone else."  
  
She started towards the door and had just reached the handle when he called her back.  
  
"You have no idea what these people are capable of," he asserted. "You don't just join up with them when you feel like a bit of revenge."  
  
"You're not telling me anything I don't already know."  
  
"Once you go looking for them, there's no turning back. You're in it for the long haul."  
  
"Just tell me where to go and I'll worry about the rest," she ordered.  
  
He didn't want to be the one that ushered her into that world, but he didn't want to know that someone else had either. At least if he was the one to show her, he'd be able to keep her safe.  
  
"Are you sure you want this?" he questioned.  
  
Gemma reached out and grabbed his t-shirt, pulling him over to her. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."  
  
He stared down at the flustered woman in his arms and couldn't help but feel dejected. What right did he have to thrust upon her the mess that he himself had been in for so long? How could he possibly live knowing he'd fed her to beasts that were the following? She'd be torn to peices and he'd have to stand back and watch.   
  
"Stay with me tonight," he said, taking her face in his hands.  
  
"What about..."  
  
"Stay with me. We'll worry about all that in the morning."  
  
She nodded. "Okay."  
  
His kiss was gentle, timid at first. She put her arms around his waist and he groaned and pulled her to him.  
  
"There's something about you," he murmured, brushing her hair from her eyes. "I dunno what, but whatever it is, I can't get enough of it."  
  
"You have to promise me something Ty," she whispered.  
  
"What?" he asked, caressing her cheeks and neck.  
  
"Promise you won't fall in love with me."  
  
This made his heart ache painfully in his chest. "Gemma I..."  
  
"Please," she begged, gripping the small of his back tightly.  
  
"I think I already have."  
  
Guilt was steadily encompasing her body, burning a whole in her throat and threatening to come tumbling out.  
  
"Lie to me," she urged.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Lie to me. Tell me anything."  
  
He didn't know what to say. There was no way he could deny what he was feeling for her. If anything, he needed to get it all out.  
  
"Ty?" she continued.  
  
"You're asking alot," he stated.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said, stepping away from him.  
  
In that instant, watching her turn her back to wipe away exasperated tears, he decided that it would be better to have her and not be able to tell he how he felt, than to tell her and lose her all over again.   
  
He swept her back up in his arms, kissing away the moisture on her cheeks. He may not be able to express his love verbally, but he could show her. He reached behind her waist and found the bottom of her jumper, pulling it gently above her head and letting it fall to the floor. He traced small kisses along her jaw, down her neck and over her breasts, finding the clasp of her bra with his right hand. With an expert tug, it too fell to the floor and stood back, admiring her supple body. He knelt down slowly to unbutton her jeans and slide off her lace underwear.  
  
A soft sigh escaped her throat as he caressed her thighs and without warning her knees gave way and she fell into his arms.   
  
Ty carried her into his bedroom, sitting her down on the bed.  
  
They began drifting towards the pillows, but she pulled back, standing up.  
  
"Not yet."  
  
A faint smile curled the corners of his mouth.  
  
Slowly, carefully, she undressed him. One article at a time, knowing that every second she wasn't touching him was torture.  
  
When everything was off, she took him in. It was as though she was seeing him for the first time. The tight lines of his muscles, the faded scars on his stomach and arms. He was...in a word...lovely. She tried not to gawk, but it was all too astonishing. What had happened to the Ty she had known all those years ago?  
  
As she venerated his appearance, he did his best to remain perfectly still. He wanted her to see him, to know him.  
  
After a few moments, she timidly reached out to touch a particularly deep scar just underneath his rib cage. He shivered under her touch and took her hands, pulling her down to him, his chest grazing the tips of her breasts.   
  
With one hand, he held back her thick hair, giving himself access to her neck. With the other, he caressed the curve of her back, lightly pressing each knot of her spine.  
  
They stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity before he finally guided her down to the bed.  
  
He brushed his lips against her hard nipples and she jumped a little out of pleasure. He laughed and she would have too if her ragged breaths would have allowed it.   
  
"You're beautiful." He smiled, kissing her nose, her cheeks, her lips.  
  
"Ty..." she heard herself say.  
  
He lowered himself onto her, his thighs around hers.   
  
She could see anxiety in his eyes. He didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want to be hurt.  
  
She tried to whisper, tried to call, but her whisper became a gasp and her call a sigh.   
  
Gemma wrapped her arms tightly around him. She wanted him. She needed him. Somehow they found eachothers eyes and she watched as his anxiety faded.  
  
She didn't know how long she'd been asleep, or even if she'd been asleep at all when she heard Ty's voice beside her.  
  
"There's something about you."  
  
Gemma turned over tiredly and laid her head across his chest, closing her eyes.  
  
"There's something about you." 


	11. Eleven

The Romanticism of Simplicity  
  
Chapter Eleven  
  
Hours later, Gemma ly awake next to Ty, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest and listening intently to his heavy breathing. Something had happened between them - something unexplainable but utterly undeniable. She strained to put her finger on it, to discern what was causing the strange feeling in her gut, but it seemed like the more she thought about it, the less sense it seemed to make. Again and again she played back their encounter in her head, picking apart every detail, scrutinizing every second...what was she feeling for this man?  
  
She propped herself up on her elbow and reached out to stroke his cheek gently. His eyes fluttered and she froze as he rolled onto his side, shifting tiredly for a bit and then finally settling back down into the pillows. 'Why couldn't he be a bastard?' she thought to herself as she peered over at him. 'Why can't I just hate him like I'm supposed to do?' But hating him seemed impossible now. He meant something to her, even thoughs he couldn't decide what, and hurting him was completely out of the question.  
  
Gemma sat up slowly in bed, tossing her legs over the edge and taking a second to steady herself. Ty had touched her in such a way that all her strength had vanished. He'd held her and whispered in her ear until all her stress and worry had been relinquished. Blown out like a flame in the wind. For those few hours, her mind had been wiped clean of everything but him and now, as a result, she was pleasantly numb.   
  
She touched a finger to her lips, remembering his kisses. Kisses she was still dizzy from. Kisses she could have spent an eternity losing herself in. Her skin, pink from the heat, still tingled from his touch. She could still feel his fingertips tracing down her spine and the warm pressure of his tongue on her breasts. These thoughts caused a small grin to creep across her face and she cursed herself for letting him get to her. 'Stop being such a git,' Gemma urged herself, standing up and quietly inching toward the door. 'Nothing happened. You're just tired. You don't feel any different about him.' She tried desperately to retain the belief that the strange feeling in her stomach was nothing more than the result of a good romp in bed. She pressed that the lightheadedness was just from exhaustion and the giddy school girl feeling...well...well that was simply nerves. Yes, that was it, just nerves.  
  
She was still debating these matters when she heard Ty behind her.  
  
"Where are you going?" he asked, stifling a yawn..  
  
His voice gave her goosebumps. "To get a change of clothes. I won't be long."  
  
"Can't it wait 'til morning?"  
  
"I think I better do it now just to be safe," she suggested.  
  
He closed the space between them, taking her face in his hands and kissing her nose.   
  
"I could go with you if you like," he offered.  
  
His warm breath on her cheeks and neck was making it awfully hard for her to keep her composure.   
  
"I'll just be a few minutes," she choked out, presing her hands against his chest in the hopes of keeping him at a safe distance.  
  
He didn't take the hint though and backed her up against the door, pressing the length of himself against her trembling body.   
  
"I hate it when you leave," he moaned, kissing her hungrily.  
  
"Go back to bed," she laughed, pushing him away playfully. "I'm coming back."  
  
He kissed her once more, long and hard, leaving her breathless. "Hurry back."  
  
Nervously, she pushed through her flat door and was startled when she found a large group of people congregating in her living room. .   
  
"Oh my God, Gemma!" Hermione gasped, rushing over to her, Remus and Sirius at her heels. She grabbed her and squeezed her hard, rocking her back and forth and then jerked back suddenly and slapped her arm. "Where the hell have you been!?"  
  
"What are you all doing here?" Gemma asked, rubbing the sore spot just above her elbow where Hermione's hand had landed with a loud 'smack'.   
  
She scanned the room and sited a very disheveled Ron getting up from her couch. The look on his face made her insides twist up into a tight knot. He was a complete mess.  
  
"We've been waiting for you!" Hermione continued, crossing her arms over her chest determinedly. "Everyone else is out looking for you."  
  
Gemma heard footsteps to her left and turned to discover a dark eyed James coming out of her kitchen. He stared at her for a moment as if trying to read her mind, but before he could speak, Harry piped up.  
  
"Well!?" he chirped. "We're waiting!"  
  
She tore herself away from James's hypnotizing stare to glance over at Harry.   
  
"I just came to...to..." she couldn't quite seem to get her mouth to form the words. That familiar lump had risen up into her throat, causing her eyes to burn and her hands to shake.  
  
"To what?"  
  
"T-to get some clothes," she stammered, keeping her eyes locked on her feet.  
  
Ron was watching her, eyeing her knotted hair and swollen lips. It was painfully obvious where she'd been. He didn't need her to say it to know it was true. But as he stood there, waiting for her reply along with everyone else, he couldn't help but feel that there was something different about her. He caught her eyes for a few moments and saw something he couldn't place. This new realization made his heart skip a beat. What could have happened for her to be so afraid to make eye contact with him?   
  
Harry was confused. "Clothes?"  
  
She nodded weakly. "I have to go back."  
  
"Go back?" Ron queried.  
  
"Ty's going to take me tomorrow," she explained. "To meet with the group."  
  
"Do you know how dangerous it was for you to go off by yourself like that?" Sirius spat, grabbing her arms and giving her a bit of a shake. "What if something had happened? You could have been killed!"  
  
"But I wasn't," she retorted, pulling away and glaring at him. "I'm fine."   
  
"That's not the point!"  
  
She slipped between him and Remus and started towards her bedroom. Ron followed her, closing the door behind himself.  
  
"Gemma..." he began.  
  
She put up her hands to stop him. "Please don't say anything Ron. They've already made it clear how stupid it was to..."  
  
"That's not what I was going to say," he announced, cutting her statement short. "I just...I just wanted you to look at me."  
  
She quickly found something to busy herself with in her closet.  
  
"Gemma," he said, reaching out and taking her hands. "Look at me."  
  
She hesitated, taking a few slow breaths to calm herself.   
  
"I can't.." she cried, feeling a few tears slide down her cheeks.  
  
He placed his forefinger under her chin and gently lifted her face up to his. "Look at me," he repeated in a soothing whisper.  
  
She tried to will away all urksome thoughts of Ty, but her efforts were to no avail and it was several seconds later before she was able to raise her eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry," she exclaimed, recoiling from his touch.  
  
"What happened?" he asked.  
  
"I d-dunno."  
  
"Do you...does he..." He wasn't sure what he was trying to say.  
  
She backed up against the wall and slid down to the floor, tucking her knees to her chest.   
  
"He loves me Ron." The words seemed to echo throughout the room, each syllable pounding her eardrums like tiny precussionists.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I-I don't think he ever stopped."  
  
He fell down next to her, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.  
  
"What does that mean?" He sighed.   
  
She buried her face in her hands and swallowed hard to stop an imposing sob. "It means...it means I'm going to hurt him."  
  
The thought of breaking his heart again was insufferable. It had been from the start. But now - now things were completely turned around. She had feelings for him - needs - wants. Things were much too complicated.   
  
He let a long, troubled sigh escape his lips before turning back to her. "What do you want me to say?"  
  
She shook her head. "There's nothing you can say Ron."  
  
"I feel like I need to do something. Anything. I don't care what, just something." He scooted closer to her, cupping her face in his hands. "I don't want to lose you."  
  
"You won't lose me," she said, placing her hands on his.  
  
"You say that now, but you don't know what's going to happen before this is all said and done. You don't know how you're going to feel about him tomorrow or the next day."  
  
"Maybe not. But I know how I feel about you and that won't change no matter what happens between me and Ty."  
  
He started to get up but she held him tight.  
  
"You're it Ron. You're the one."  
  
He nodded solemnly, grabbing her and holding her to his chest. "Gemma..." He tried to think of something incredible to say that would assure her of his own feelings. That would reinstate everything he'd ever promised - all his hopes and wishes. But only one thing came to mind. "I love you," he whispered.  
  
Ty was eerily quiet as he and Gemma made their way through muggle London to a small shop that didn't have a name. The air inside the dimly lit space was stale and thick. The type of air that one had to concentrate hard on to breath. The musty smell hung in the back of her throat, causing an involuntary gag and she cringed at the layers of dust that had accumulated over the rows of glass jars that were filled with questionable merchandise. As they drew closer to the back, she studied an engraved wooden box that was leaking some sort of gook she'd never seen. The ghastly, viscid substance bubbled and smoked as though it were alive, 'glooping' and 'slurping' it's way down the counter to the floor.   
  
"What is that?" Gemma asked, pointing in the box's direction.  
  
"I've never gotten up the nerve to ask," he answered, quickening his pace as he lead the way. "C'mon. I don't want to linger."  
  
"Right," she agreed, snatching one last look at it.  
  
There was a narrow passageway hidden behind a decaying slip of fabric.  
  
"This way," he instructed, holding the curtain back and ushering her through.  
  
She inched past him, her steps unsure and paused so that her eyes could adjust to the darkness. She reached for her wand, hoping Lumos would help, but Ty took her hand, stopping her.  
  
"I know the way," he assured her, grasping her fingers firmly and stepping around her.  
  
This action was extremely unsettling and, despite the stale air, Gemma's breaths became short and rushed.  
  
They had wandered in the darkness for what seemed like hours when they finally began to hear voices somewhere in the distance. The mumbles grew louder with every step they took and Gemma closed her eyes, trying to count the different tones. 'One...two..three..he sounds familiar.' Just as this thought entered her mind, Ty rounded on her.  
  
"There's still time to turn back," he said.  
  
Her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears that she could barely hear him.   
  
"I've made up my mind," she replied, squeezing her wand for support.  
  
He let out a long breath and the next thing she knew, she was being directed through another doorway.  
  
"Well if it isn't our good friend Ty," she heard someone say.  
  
"And look here," another more raspy voice rang out. "He's brought us a present."  
  
Gemma squinted to readjust to the firelight.  
  
"Hey!" a third person piped up. It sounded like a woman, but it was so aged and hoarse that it was hard to tell without being able to see clearly. "That's not just anybody. That's that Herrin girl!"  
  
She heared a rustling and focused her eyes just in time to see five wands aimed right at her nose.  
  
"What the fuck's the matter with you Morrow!?" The woman (Yes, it was definately a woman. There was no mistatking the large breasts and platinum hair.) shrieked. "She's one of them!?"  
  
"Put your God damn wands down and I'll explain," Ty ordered. He was surprisingly calm for someone under attack.  
  
"I knew there was something off about you!" The man to their left spat. His black eyes gleamed mischevously. "And now you've gone and turned on us!"  
  
Another woman, seemingly younger than the blonde hag Gemma had first noticed, with long, chocolate brown hair and hollow eyes, sneered evily at her.  
  
"You're the bitch who broke my arm!" She said this with such distaste that it made Gemma whince.   
  
"Sorry," Gemma exclaimed, conjuring up as much courage as she could. "I'm afraid I don't remember you."  
  
"Believe me, you'll never be able to forget me once I'm through with you."  
  
She made to lunge at her, but Gemma had her wand out before her feet could leave the floor. The woman backed up, but kept her own hand steady.  
  
"If you so much as wink," Gemma's voice was stern and unwavering. "I'll make sure you won't have a bone left to break."  
  
"What is this Ty!" The youngest man roared. His long, messy red hair shifted from side to side as he came towards them.  
  
"If you'd all calm down I could tell you!"  
  
"What the hell did you expect!?" The third man who was rather tall, but fairly muscular, questioned. "You just gave us up to a fucking auror!"  
  
"And Merlin knowns how many others!" The brunette added through gritted teeth.  
  
"She's not an auror anymore."  
  
"You expect us to swallow that tripe!?"  
  
"It's true," Gemma said. "I was fired - stripped of my rights."  
  
"She's here to join up with us," Ty proceeded.  
  
There was a hearty laugh somewhere to their left and Gemma quickly recognized it as the man with the black eyes, but she didn't dare look up as long as that girl was pointing at her.  
  
"You think it's that easy do you? You think you can just come in here and become a member? Just like that?"  
  
"Of course I do."  
  
"You know how this works Ty," the blonde woman said, sounding rather exasperated. "You know who makes these decisions and you know what she'll have to go through."  
  
'Go through?' Gemma thought to herself, a bit panicked. 'What does she mean by that?'  
  
Ty nodded, dropping his wand. "I know."  
  
The woman followed suit, stuffing her wand deep into her robes pocket. "Then why bother bringing her here?"  
  
"How else am I supposed to find Dullison?"  
  
Gemma watched as one by one, wands were dropped and they returned to their seats around the rectangular wooden table in front of the fireplace. The brunette wasn't giving up so readily though and remained glued to her spot, wand extended.  
  
"I dare you," Gemma growled, staring her down.  
  
"Give it up Adonia," the red head breathed, taking a swig from a tall mug. "She'd have your ass on a platter and you know it."  
  
"Fuck off Preble," Adonia hissed.  
  
"Ruggle's right Addy. I've heard about this girl. She'd be a match for even the best of us," the blondie stated, going back to nursing a fresh gash that ran from the palm of her right hand all the way to her elbow.   
  
Still, she refused to step back, so the man with the black eyes took it upon himself to settle the situation.   
  
"Accio wand," he ordered and Adonia's wand flew easily out of her hand and into his.  
  
She rounded on him, flaming mad.  
  
"Save it will you?" he sighed, waving her off. "Your looks don't scare me."  
  
She stood there a little bit longer and then shoved Gemma hard, pushing her out of the way, and stormed out the door.  
  
"I don't understand," the muscly guy began after things quieted down a bit. "Why the hell would someone like you want to join up with people like us? I mean, it wasn't that long ago when you were trying to blow us to bits."  
  
"Actually," Gemma corrected. "You were trying to blow ME to bits."  
  
"Either way," he shrugged. "I don't get it."  
  
"Like I said, the Ministry completey fucked me over. Took away my lisence."  
  
"So you're saying you want revenge?"  
  
"That's exactly what I'm saying."  
  
Ruggle took another swig of his drink and then looked up at her. "I hate to break it to you sweetheart but we don't do revenge."  
  
"Really? Then what exactly DO you do because I was under the impression that that's what this little organization of yours was centered around."  
  
"Yeah, but a different KIND of revenge. What you're talking about is kid stuff."  
  
"Actually," the black-eyed man said, scratching his chin and leaning back in is seat. "I think she'd make an excellent addition to our little party."  
  
"Come on Samson!" Ruggle cried, sloshing some of his brew onto the table, much to the annoyance of the blonde lady. "How do we know she's not undercover or something!? She could be the death of us!"  
  
"But think of all the information we can get out of her. We NEED her!" He turned to face the muscly guy. "Am I right Sheridan?"  
  
Sheridan stood up and leaned over the table so that he could get a better look at Gemma. He took a few minutes sizing her up and then grinned. "We could definately use her."  
  
This sent shivers down her spine and she swallowed hard to be able to maintain her tough stance.  
  
"What do you think Maureen?" Samson questioned, turning back to the blondie.  
  
"It doesn't matter what I think," she retorted. "Dullison's the one who decides, remember?" She met Ty's eyes. "You have to take her to him."  
  
"Where is he?" Ty asked.  
  
"Couldn't tell you."  
  
"You know what she's going to have to go through if he says yes?" Sheridan chimed in. "Do you honestly think she's up for it?"  
  
"Up for what?" Gemma asked, anxiety settling in the pit of her stomach.  
  
"She can handle it," Ty presumed, noticably worried.   
  
"Handle what!?" she shouted, tired of being talked about as though she weren't in the room.  
  
Just then, the door behind them flung open with a loud 'BANG' and Gemma turned around to find yet another wand shoved in her face. 


	12. Twelve

The Romanticism of Simplicity  
  
Chapter Twelve  
  
The man on the other end of the wand was about Ty's height and around Gemma's age. His touseled brown hair stood up in every direction and his brilliant purple eyes sparkled despite his drastic frown.   
  
"Adonia told me everything," he croaked, keeping his eyes locked on Gemma's.  
  
"Did she now?" Ty smirked, taking a step closer to Gemma who had impulsively raised her wand and locked her elbow so tightly that her fingers were turning purple.   
  
"Dullison knows as well," the boy continued. "He sent for you both."  
  
"Oh, don't look so pleased with yourself Breckin," Sheridan sighed. "Just because Addy came blabbing to you doesn't mean she's finally gone soft for you. It just mean that all the other people worth telling already knew."  
  
"Bugger off bitch!" he barked, the tips of his ears going pink.  
  
"Oooh! Testy, testy!" Ruggle taunted.  
  
Gemma could feel the moisture accumulating at her hair line. The guy didn't look stable and their mockery only seemed to be pushing him closer to the edge.   
  
"So, what's with the wand?" Ty asked, slicing through the tension.  
  
"I'm to make sure you get there." His mouth twitched into a sideways grin. "One way or the other."  
  
"I see. And where IS he exactly?"  
  
"Romania." He flicked his hand, adjusting his aim to Ty. "You know where to go."  
  
He nodded and took hold of Gemma's wrist.  
  
"What are you doing?" she questioned, looking up at him.  
  
"We'll apparate together," he explained. "It's safer this way."  
  
With that, he took one last look at Breckin and then there was a loud 'CRACK' and they were standing in the entryway of a very large home. She took a moment to scrutinize her surroundings. The framed paintings, the marble floors, the chandelier...it was...breathtaking.  
  
After a few moments of unrestrained gawking, an abused looking house elf appeared in front of them.  
  
"M-Mr. Dullison will s-see you now," it choked out. "In the s-sitting room."  
  
"Thankyou Tilly," Ty replied.  
  
"I didn't know people still kept house elves," Gemma pointed out, watching the tiny creature turn on it's heel and dissappear down the lavish corridor to the right of the equally splendid spiral staircase.  
  
"OW!" Gemma yelped, feeling the tip of a pointed object puncture the soft spot between her shoulder blades.  
  
"Get a move on then!" Breckin instructed.  
  
She battled with the urge to curse the git right then and there and probably would have if it weren't for Ty's tight hold on her waist, guiding her forward. She allowed him to lead her down an airy hallway, adorned with what appeared to be family portraits, to yet another emmaculate room.   
  
On either side of a glowing fireplace were two, dark brown leather couches and in the center between them lay a beautiful persian rug and oversized coffee table. The walls were lined with rows and rows of old books and scrolls and for a moment, it occured to her that they might have entered the wrong room. That thought quickly vanished though when she spotted the dark figure to their right, pouring himself a glass of an amber liquid she didn't recognize.  
  
"Ah, Ty," he cooed. "How nice to see you again."  
  
Ty didn't reciprocate the smile. It was never good when Dullison was in a cheery mood.  
  
"And this must be the young lady Adonia was telling me about." In one swift, silky movement, almost as if he had glided, he closed the space between he and Gemma and outstretched his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you Ms. Herrin."  
  
Reluctantly she gave him her hand and watched in disgust as he raised it to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles.   
  
"And you are?"   
  
"Dullison. Seth Dullison." He paused to examine her. "You're even more stunning than in the pictures."  
  
"Pictures?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.  
  
He tilted his head towards a bureau in the corner that was covered in newspapers and magazines and she quicly recognized them as the articles that had been written about her.  
  
"Doing your history I see," she retorted, withdrawing her hand.  
  
"I've been watching you for quite some time," he replied.   
  
She didn't like the sound of that. "What for?"  
  
"Ever since you and your friends took out our league here in Romania, I've been fascinated by you."  
  
"I hadn't realized I was all that fascinating," she huffed.  
  
He laughed, taking a seat on one of the couches. "Quite the contrary. I've found learning about you extremely engaging."  
  
Ty listened on in horror. If he had known that Dullison had been researching Gemma he would have never brought her to him. This meant that he was planning something.  
  
"Why would you want to learn about me?"  
  
"Several reasons."  
  
"Well indulge me would you?" She urged, following his finger to the couch opposite him. Ty did the same.  
  
"One, because you're ravishing."  
  
Gemma cringed inwardly. "I'm flattered."  
  
"Two, because I know what an outstanding addition you would make to our team."  
  
"Were you planning on approaching me or was all this just wishful thinking?" she questioned, watching him closely.   
  
"I didn't need to. I knew that one way or the other you'd wind up here."  
  
"So you're not surprised to see me then?"  
  
"Not in the least."  
  
"Well tell me Mr. Dullison," she prodded, leaning forward inquisitively. "Now that I'm here - now that you have me at your fingertips so to speak - what do you plan on doing with me?"  
  
"I plan on making you a member," he grinned, an evil glint in his eyes.  
  
"And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"  
  
He snapped his fingers and the house elf reappeared, a wand in hand.  
  
Dullison snatched it up and waved the poor thing off again.  
  
"Not very smart," Gemma commented. "Walking around unarmed."  
  
"Really?" he sneered. "I happen to see it as a sign of bravery."  
  
"Mr. Dullison," Ty chirped, feeling ansy at the sight of the wand. "Is it really necessary..."  
  
"Are you questioning me?" he snapped dangerously.  
  
"Of course not. It's just that..."  
  
"Is what necessary?" Gemma queried, moving to the edge of her seat.  
  
Dullison turned his attention back to her. "You're an intelligent woman Ms. Herrin. I take it you've heard of the Dark Mark?"  
  
She nodded, swallowing hard.  
  
"Then you must also know that the Death Eaters wore that mark on their arm?"  
  
She nodded again.  
  
"Not only was it a useful tool, it was a sign of their loyalty."  
  
Her hands had begun to sweat profusely. "What are you getting at?"  
  
"As the second string of Death Eaters we too carry the mark."  
  
"So you ARE followers of Voldemort!" she gasped.  
  
"Our purpose is to defend his legacy," Ty explained, avoiding her eyes.  
  
Gemma glanced over at him and then back to Dullison. "But how can the mark work if Voldemort is dead?"  
  
"Simple spell my dear," he answered. "You'll see."  
  
He reached over and grasped her wrist, pulling it towards him.  
  
"What are you doing?" she fretted, working hard to keep her composure. He was much stronger than she would have guessed. 'Don't let him know you're scared' she told herself. 'You won't stand a chance.'  
  
"You'll wear the mark well," he grinned, steadying his wand in his hand.  
  
Before Gemma could protest, he had uttered the spell and she was suddenly enveloped in a fiery sensation. The heat spread throughout her body, flooding her limbs and settling behind her eyes. She wanted to cry out in agony, to scream for help but she couldn't move. It was as though her arm was being ripped off peice by peice - slowly, tactfully. She could feel her skin breaking, hear the pop of her blood bubbling over...it was the worst pain she had ever felt. Her arm began to shake violently from the pressure and she closed her eyes, coaxing herself to breath. After a few seconds...or was it hours...she heard a shrill scream and knew at once that it had escaped her lips. Everything was spinning...she was going to pass out...the pain was too much.   
  
But just as she felt herself giving out, he drew back his wand and she found herself in someone's arms. She couldn't open her eyes to see who though.   
  
"Take her home," Dullison ordered. "Make sure she rests. She's no good to me ill."  
  
Ty picked her up, squeezing her close to his chest and without hesitation, apparated them both back into his flat.  
  
"Gemma," he spoke, laying her on his bed and brushing the hair from her face.  
  
Her eyes fluttered open and she groaned loudly.  
  
He examined her arm. Blood was oozing from the deep valleys of the wound, seeping into his sheets. He thought back to the night he had recieved the same mark and how he'd tried to soothe it with ointments and potions. Nothing had helped. The only thing he could do was wait. Wait for the unbearable pain to cease.  
  
"I'm sorry," he sighed.  
  
There was an incredible pounding behind her ears. "How bad is it?"  
  
"Bad."  
  
"Will it heal?" she asked, big tears now welling up in her eyes.  
  
"Eventually."  
  
"Why haven't I seen yours?"  
  
"It fades. The only time it's visible is when I'm needed."  
  
She took in a shallow breath. "Does the pain go away?"  
  
He nodded. "Yes."  
  
He bent down and kissed away a tear trickling down her temple.   
  
"I'm so sorry," he whispered.   
  
"I chose to go there Ty," Gemma reasoned.   
  
"I should have told you what would happen."  
  
Somehow, she conjured up enough strength to sit up.   
  
"It's over now," she assured him, brushing her fingertips across his flushed cheek.  
  
"No," he shook. "It's just beginning."  
  
That night, despite Ty's dissapproval, Gemma went back to her flat. She told him it was for more clothes, which was partially true, but in actuallity, she had promised to come back with a report.  
  
She apparated into her living room, stumbling a bit and falling into something hard. She heard a chorus of gasps and felt two strong arms wrap around her waist.  
  
"Bloody hell!"   
  
She looked up and met Ron's troubled eyes.  
  
"She's bleeding!" he cried, taking her over to the couch.  
  
"I-I'm fine," she managed to choke out. "Just a scratch."  
  
"Just a scratch my arse!" Harry retorted, leaning over her to get a better look.  
  
Out of nowhere it seemed, Molly appeared, gauze and potion at the ready and as Ron held Gemma up, she began rolling up her sleeve.  
  
"Dear, dear, dear," she tisked, about to put her two cents in. But once the sleeve was up and the wound was revealed, all she could do was stare. "T-this, this is the D-Dark Mark."  
  
Everyone quickly crowded around, shocked.  
  
Something between anger and outrage was welling up in Ron's gut, causing the tiny hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.  
  
"What happened?" he questioned, holding her face as his mom worked.  
  
"Dullison," she answered. "They're D-Death Eaters."  
  
"Who's Dullison?" James asked.  
  
"Seth Dullison," Gemma groaned.   
  
"Seth Dullison?" Arthur exclaimed, thinking hard. "Of course! He dissappeared the year before Voldemort's death! We never found him!"  
  
"HE did this to you?" Ron questioned.  
  
Gemma could feel the heat iminating from his hands and knew that he was on the verge of a rampage.   
  
"I'm okay Ron," she persisted, grinning half-heartedly. "I've had worse. Really I have."  
  
The potion was turning out to be useless so Molly unraveled the gauze and began wrapping the arm. If she couldn't heal it, at least she could stop the bleeding.  
  
"Does it hurt much?" Hermioned whinced.  
  
"It's nothing I can't handle," Gemma pledged, looking anywhere but at the revolting injury.  
  
Once the gauze was secure and the finishing touches had been put on, Molly stood up and glanced around at the small group of people around her.  
  
"Well..." she began. "I for one am no longer in support of this little escapade!"  
  
"Now really, Molly," Arthur breathed.  
  
"Don't you 'now really, Molly' ME Arthur Weasley! This isn't right! If they can do something as horrid as THIS what's to stop them from finishing her off!? It's just too dangerous!"  
  
"I understand that dear, but we can't just pull out. It's not that simple."  
  
"Would you rather we sit back and watch her suffer!?"  
  
He let out a an exasperated breath. "Of course not..."  
  
"Molly," Gemma said, rising to her feet and pausing for a moment to steady herself. "I'll be all right. I can do this."  
  
"It's not your abilities I'm questioning Gemma. It's the risk I'm worried about. It's just so...so..."  
  
"I know," she sighed. "But we knew it would be going into it."  
  
"We should have never asked you to do this."  
  
Gemma took her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. "If it gets to be too much I won't hesitate to tell you."  
  
Molly smiled weakly and hugged her tightly. "You're as much a part of this family as any of my own children and it tears me up inside to see you hurt."  
  
They pulled apart and Gemma gathered her thoughts.  
  
"I should probably hurry," she stated, running her hands through her hair tiredly.  
  
"You're going back?" Ron asked, standing up next to her.  
  
"I have to," she frowned. "I shouldn't even be here right now."  
  
Dissapointed, he followed her into the bedroom.  
  
"I miss you Gemma," he declared, leaning against the wall and stuffing his hands into his pockets.  
  
"I miss you too."  
  
"So make up an excuse. Tell him something came up."  
  
"You know I can't do that Ron," she exclaimed, pulling a fresh pair of jeans from the top drawer of her dresser and tossing them haphazerdly onto the bed.  
  
He hated not having her home at night, safe and sound in his arms - not having her there to snuggle up to when it got a little chilly or when the bed suddenly felt a little too large. But most of all, he hated knowing that she was with someone else. The thought of her body curled around Ty's...his hands in her hair...his lips on her neck...it was insufferable. He still hadn't been able to wipe his mind clean of the images of his arm around her waist that night in Hogsmeade and he practically drove himself mad picturing all the other places that he might be touching her. He'd never be able to kiss her again without wondering if that bastard had kissed her in the same spot in the same way.  
  
"It'll all be over soon," Gemma said, tearing him from his thoughts. "It'll be over and we'll be able to move on."  
  
"I hope so," he groaned.  
  
It was awful putting him through this and the more involved her and Ty got the harder it became to stick with it. The stress of it all was taking it's toll on Ron, becoming more and more obvious with each passing day. His dark eyes, his mussed up hair, his shaky hands, they were all clear signs.   
  
She watched as he studied a spot on the floor and felt a cold 'plop' in the pit of her stomach which could only be her heart.  
  
"C'mere," she breathed, sitting down on the foot of the bed and motioning for him to join her.  
  
"I hate him," he growled. "I hate that he gets to hold you and care for you while I'm stuck here...waiting."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I hate that I'm not out there with you. I hate that I can't protect you. I hate..."  
  
She placed a warm hand on his cheek, stroking it with her thumb. "I know."  
  
They sat for a while, staring into eachother's eyes, feeding off the other's energy until Ron laid back and pulled her on top of him.  
  
"What are you doing?" she smiled sadly.   
  
Carefully, not wanting to injure her arm any more than it already was, he rolled her over. "Give me an hour."  
  
The look in his eyes was pleading and desperate and she wanted nothing more than to soothe his ache. But...she just couldn't.  
  
"I can't," she expressed.  
  
"One hour Gemma," he begged. "Stay with me for one hour."  
  
"I have to get back. Ty's waiting."  
  
"Let him wait," he retorted. "Right now you're with me."  
  
He bent down and captured her lips gently with his own, savouring every second of her skin against his. She didn't resist - it was too wonderful to resist. Instead, she let herself sink further into the matress, pulling him closer as he deepend the embrace.   
  
She parted her lips, inviting him in and sighed as their tongues met. He had a way of tangling them so that after a few seconds, she wasn't able to tell where she ended and he began.   
  
"Ron," she moaned when he began tracing her jawline.  
  
"Stay with me," he repeated in a low whisper.  
  
The vibration of his voice on her neck sent shivers down her body.  
  
He worked his way down to the collar of her shirt and his fingers in turn found the hem, easing it abover her head. Her bra was next, one strap at a time, trailing kisses along the way until his tongue met her nipple. As he flicked and teased, his free hand cupping her other breast, his hot breath was as pleasant as sunshine on a cold day.   
  
It was such an incredible sensation that she had to bite her lip to stop herself from crying out when he sat up to pull off her jeans and panties and remove his own clothes.   
  
Before he came back down, he took time to lock the door and mutter a silencing charm. The last thing they needed was one of his parents walking in on them.  
  
While they kissed and stroked one another, she could feel him growing steadily against her belly and enjoyed the soft pressure. It wouldn't be long now...  
  
"I love you," he said, positioning his hips over hers and taking her into his mouth once more.  
  
She shuddered as he entered her and moaned when he slid back again, almost leaving her. Urgently, she took hold of his shoulders, pulling him back down to her.  
  
"Stay close," she begged. "Please."  
  
"Whatever you want," he replied, kissing her chin. "Whatever you want." 


	13. Thirteen

The Romanticism of Simplicity  
  
Chapter Thirteen  
  
"What took you so long?" Ty asked when Gemma finally came back.  
  
"I didn't feel well enough to apparate," she lied, dropping her clothes on the couch. "I had to wait."  
  
She wanted to look at him, to meet his eyes, but she was terrified that he would see right through her - that he would somehow clue in and know who she'd been with. The flush on her cheeks was still as bright as it had been when Ron's lingering fingers had called it forth and she was almost certain that Ty could feel the heat radiating from her body. He MUST be able to. How could he not when she herself was still so happily dizzy from it? And even if he couldn't, surely he'd be able to sense her anxiety...or was it guilt?   
  
"You don't look so good," he commented, studying her face.  
  
"I'm just tired."  
  
He stepped forward and placed a cool hand on her forehead causing her heart to stop mid-beat.   
  
"You're hot."  
  
"Er...well..."  
  
"It must be fever from the wound," he sighed. "You should lie down."  
  
Gemma breathed a deep sigh of relief and turned towards the bedroom.   
  
"I'll be in in a minute," he called after her. "I'm just gonna make some tea."  
  
Inside, she found one of his t-shirts in the closet and hastily threw it on before climbing under the sheets. The distressed cotton was soft against her warm skin and the coziness of it lulled her into a state of relaxation. Her head sank deep into the plush pillow and not long after, her weary joints loosened and she felt herself drifting off.  
  
Another week passed without any word from Dullison or the other Death Eaters and as they waited, Gemma and Ty had to constantly remind themselves to breath. Dullison was planning something - something that would surely test her loyalty - and while Ty knew that the longer the wait the worse the mission would be, Gemma couldn help but feel relief. She tried to convince herself that it was all a bad dream and that she'd wake up any minute and find herself asleep at her desk at the Ministry, cold cup of coffee in her hands and Hermione skimming through the yellowed pages of Hogwart's a History. Sometimes, late at night when she was surrounded by silky darkness and the mark on her arm was no longer visible, she allowed herself to believe that none of it had happened - that the man next to her was the man she loved and the tearing at her heart wasn't guilt but happiness.  
  
Finally, around one in the morning on a Friday, Gemma and Ty were roused from their sleep by a quick 'crack' and a hoarse voice.  
  
"Get up you God damn gits!" Maureen barked, waving her wand and blowing the covers from the bed.  
  
"Whatthehell!" Ty yelped, rolling over and rubbing his eyes free of sleep.  
  
"Get up!" she repeated. "We've got work to do!"  
  
Gemma was up without hesitation and rushed to throw on the jeans and jumper that she kept beside the bed.  
  
"I hope you know what you've gotten yourself into," Maureen stated, watching her bend over to tug on her shoes. "You're all Dullison talks about these days."  
  
"Is that good or bad?" she asked, standing up and snatching her wand from the nightstand.  
  
"It's not bad...but it's not good either," she explained. "It really comes down to what kind of mood he's in."  
  
"How's his mood today?"  
  
She let out a light cackle. "It could be worse."  
  
Ty grunted softly as he pulled on his shirt. "Who are we going for this time?"  
  
"All I know is that we're headed to Romania."  
  
"Romania?" Gemma questioned.  
  
"Romania," she repeated.  
  
"Any idea who we're fighting?"  
  
"The usual set of aurors I'd imagine. I wouldn't be surprised if you knew them."  
  
Gemma's heart skipped a beat. What if Ron was there? What if she had to fight him?  
  
"Well I'm ready if you are," Ty added, pulling on his cloak and glancing over at the two girls.  
  
They nodded and with three loud 'cracks' they were gone.  
  
They arrived just outside of The Pheonix Feather and almost immediately, Gemma noticed the ominous figure just down the alley. Maureen caught his eyes and nodded. Gently - discreetly, she ushered them inside.  
  
"Wands ready?" she whispered as they took a seat at a table in the back.  
  
The couple nodded.  
  
"What's our sign?" Ty asked.  
  
Just then there was a loud explosion outside followed by the unsettling sound of shattering glass and a woman screaming.  
  
"We just got it," Maureen snickered.  
  
A tall, lanky wizard at the bar jumped up from his seat. "Bloody hell!" he shrieked. "C'mon Bill!"  
  
His chubby friend started to follow suit, but Ty quickly yanked out his wand and thrust it in their direction.  
  
"EXPELLIARMUS!" he shouted and the two men's wands soared across the room.  
  
"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!" the tall man shouted.  
  
He replied by throwing them over the bar with a particularly nasty hurling hex and in the next few seconds, it seemed like the world was being turned upside down. Outside, multicolored flashes of lights were being shot back and forth from wizard to wizard, colliding with everything in their path. Inside, the pub was being torn to bits by frantic witch's and wizard's poorly aimed spells. The small, round tables were being blown into thick brown splinters, the dirty windows were being busted into shards and customers were scurrying about, desperately trying to steady their wand arms and plant their feet.   
  
Ty and Maureen worked their way towards the gaping doorway within a matter of minutes, plowing through whatever happened to cross their path. Gemma spotted them just as they reached the door way and was about to run after them when she was shoved hard in the back and knocked to the floor. Not soon after, she found herself dipping under an upturned table to avoid a rogue spell that ended up hitting the wall and bursting into flame.  
  
"Shit," she murmured, watching the the orange flames rise to lick the ceiling.  
  
"WHERE IS SHE?" she heard Ty question from somewhere to her right.  
  
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before pulling herself to her feet and taking aim at a rather large wizard getting ready to fire at her.  
  
"Sorry about this," she whispered to herself. "STUPEFY!"  
  
The brut of a man went rigid and toppled over onto a chair, crushing it.  
  
"COME ON!" Maureen urged, waving frantically with her hands and starting out towards the street.  
  
"Right," Gemma breathed, taking one last look at the man to make sure he was okay.  
  
The trio ran outside into the midst of the fight and found a few familiar faces.  
  
"What a way to spend a night, eh?" Samson grinned. The reflection of the fire inside the pub glinted in his black eyes.  
  
"You're telling me!" Maureen agreed.  
  
"Any sign of aurors yet?" Ty asked after sending another wizard face first into the dirt with a leg locker curse.  
  
"Shouldn't be long now," Samson answered.   
  
Out of nowhere, a burst of green light came flying at their heads and they ducked just in time to miss the worst of it.   
  
Samson rounded on the witch it had come from and caught her with a jelly legs curse before she could hurry off.   
  
"That bitch nearly set my hair on fire!" Maureen gasped, clutching a clump of the fried, yellow strands between her fingers.  
  
"Well let's not stand around and wait for the next bastard to come along," Samson suggested. "Come on. We've got work to do."  
  
They set off down the dark alley, firing at everything that was moving and blocking or dodging everything that came their way. For the most part they managed to stay together. But the farther ahead they got, the harder it became to look out for eachother. Eventually they were split up.  
  
Gemma, who had been concentrating on remembering spells that would stun without injury, hadn't even noticed that this had happened. She just looked up and realized she was alone.   
  
For a moment, she contemplated hiding in one of the abandoned shops and waiting for it all to end, but as she was thinking it through someone came up behind her.  
  
"DON'T MOVE OR I'LL HAVE YOUR HEAD!"  
  
Shocked, she fought to regain a steady breath.   
  
"TURN AROUND SLOWLY AND DROP THE WAND!"  
  
She did as she was told, circling around to face her attacker.  
  
"Fuck, Gemma! Is that you!?" Kenneda screeched, squinting to see through the dim star light.  
  
Gemma didn't reply. What was there to say?  
  
"I can't believe this!" she continued. "ACCIO WAND!"  
  
Gemma's wand left her fingers easily and flew into the hands of her friend.  
  
"How could you do this!?"   
  
"Kenneda..."  
  
"How could you turn on us like this!?"  
  
"Kenneda, I..." she started to answer, but was cut short.  
  
"DIFFINDO!" Kenneda spat.  
  
Gemma was smacked in the chest and knocked clear across the cobblestone street.   
  
"WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU!" Kenneda barked, watching her struggle to her knees and gasp for breath. "WE TRUSTED YOU FOR MERLIN'S SAKE!"  
  
"Please..."  
  
"DIFFINDO!" she repeated.  
  
This time the spell hit her in the stomach and sent her sliding backwards into the outside corner of a robe shop. There was a sickening crack as her shoulder met the jagged edge of a brick and she couldn't stop herself from crying out in pain.   
  
"Kenneda please," she begged between bouts of dizziness.  
  
"OF ALL THE LOW DOWN THINGS TO DO!" she ranted. "AND RON! WHAT THE HELL WAS ALL THAT!? DIDN'T HE MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU!?"  
  
As Kenneda went on, Gemma tried to think of a way to reach her wand. She'd never be able to pull it free without the use of both of arms.  
  
"YOU WERE ONE OF THE BEST GEMMA!"   
  
Her brain continued to swim with ideas. If she could just get Kenneda to come closer, to take a few steps forward.  
  
"WHY DID YOU DO IT!?"  
  
It was a long shot, but she had done some wandless magic once in a situation similar to the one she was in. She didn't know how she had done it - it just sort of...happened.   
  
"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!?"  
  
She closed her eyes and visualized her wand in her hand. The soft ridges at the grip, the smooth birchwood...  
  
"WHAT THE FUCK!"  
  
The wand, slipping from Kenneda's grasp, somehow made it to Gemma's hand and when it was secure between her fingers, she pointed it out in front of herself.  
  
"How d-did you do that!?" Kenneda gasped, taking a few steps back.  
  
Painfully and relying heavily on the wall behind her, she pulled herself up from the ground, keeping her hand as steady as possible the entire time. Her breathing was heavy and labored.  
  
"Does it matter?" she asked.  
  
"Why are you doing this?"  
  
"I'm surprised you even have to ask."  
  
"I didn't think you were the type to seek revenge."  
  
Gemma gave her most believeable laugh. "Wouldn't you?"  
  
"I like to believe I'm better than that," she stated matter-of-factly.  
  
"Five years Kenneda. Five fucking years and for what? FOR WHAT!?"  
  
"You were selling secrets Gemma."  
  
She shook her head. "No. No I wasn't. But I am now."  
  
"Don't do this," she pleaded. "Come back with us and talk to Fudge. I'm sure it'll all work out."  
  
"I can't."  
  
"If not for you, then for Ron. He loves you Gemma."  
  
"You're wrong."  
  
Kenneda lowered her wand and moved closer. "I've seen the way he looks at you."  
  
"You weren't there..."  
  
"What?"  
  
Gemma's brain was going a mile a minute trying to come up with something to say.   
  
"You weren't there that day...when I was fired. You didn't see his face when Fudge read off those accusations."  
  
"He was probably just shocked."  
  
"No...he doesn't love me anymore. I don't blame him."  
  
Kenneda reached out a hand to her but Gemma flung her wand out straighter, grunting at the sharp pain in her shoulder.  
  
"Stay back!" she ordered.  
  
"Gemma...this...this is crazy."  
  
"Do me a favor would you? Tell Fudge I said thankyou for fucking up my life."  
  
"Gemma..." Kenneda started to protest but was stopped midsentence by a stunning spell. She fell over into a rigid little heap, unable to stop her wand from rolling away.  
  
"Please stay out of my way," Gemma sighed as she moved past her.  
  
By the time she found Ty again, most of the Death Eaters had either retreated or been captured and the streets were beginning to quiet down.   
  
"Where've you been?" he asked when she came boudning around the corner.  
  
"Around," she huffed. "Where's Maureen?"  
  
"I haven't seen her...or anyone else for that matter."  
  
"Well...what do we do now?"  
  
"We clear out," he explained. "There's nothing else we can do tonight."  
  
She let out a long breath. "All right."  
  
No sooner had they appeared at Ty's flat than Dullison's house elf had appeared behind them.  
  
"M-Ms. Herrin," it croaked, wrining it's hands nervously.  
  
"Yes," she answered.  
  
"Mr. D-Dullison wishes to s-see you."  
  
"Now?"  
  
"I-immedately."  
  
She glanced over at Ty. "Don't wait up."  
  
"Be careful," he retorted. "Don't turn your back."  
  
"Are you kidding me," she snorted.  
  
Dullsion Manor was as cold and miserable as ever. All the candles and fireplaces were out except for the ones in the study and the absence of noise only heightened the eery sound of the wind outside. It howled and scrame as though it were an ailing dog, the high-pitched wails settling in the pit of her stomach like a bucket of ice.   
  
"M-Mr. Dullison is in h-here," the tiny creature said, standing back with his arm outstretched to guide her inside.  
  
"Thankyou," she nodded and stepped over the threshold.  
  
Dullison was sitting on one of the leather couches, staring into the fire and swirling the contents of his glass.  
  
"You wanted to see me?" she asked, clinging tightly to her wand beneath her cloak.  
  
He tilted his head back to look at her, a small grin curling the sides of his hideous mouth.   
  
"Ah, Ms. Herrin," he breathed. "Please, take a seat."  
  
"I'd rather not," she shook.  
  
"I insist. You look absolutely beat."  
  
"All the more reason for you to hurry with whatever it is you have to say."  
  
"There's no need to be rude," he laughed. "I only wanted to say how pleased I was with your performance tonight."  
  
"If that's all then," she began, turning around to head back out.  
  
"You and Mr. Morrow were just about the last people left standing."  
  
"I'm really very tired," she pressed.  
  
"Brilliant, really."  
  
"Mr. Dullison..."  
  
"There's just one thing that puzzles me," he added, getting up from his seat and joining her by the door.  
  
"What's that?" she sighed.  
  
"You say you want revenge."  
  
"And?"  
  
"Yet when you're face to face with one of them, you're surprisingly merciful."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"A stunning spell?" he smirked. "Doesn't impedimenta or perhaps crucio seem more fitting?"  
  
"I think my stunning spell worked quite nicely thankyou."  
  
"I don't doubt...but you see, these people are our enemies. Once they're down, we don't want them to get back up."  
  
"Believe me," Gemma retorted. "She couldn't have gotten back up on her own."  
  
"Nevertheless, we WILL be seeing her again."  
  
There was a short silence in which he captured her eyes. His stare was terrifying, harsh and cruel, and she struggled with maintaining a firm standing.  
  
"I really have to go," she said.  
  
He grabbed her wrist before she could leave and pulled her back to him. "Don't underestimate me Ms. Herrin. I know more than you think."  
  
She yanked free and held his gaze. "I'd be surprised if you knew anything at all."  
  
With that, she turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving him to ponder his latest recruit. 


End file.
